


Sweet as Sugar

by glowine



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Alpha Victor Nikiforov, Alpha Yuri Plisetsky, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Blow Jobs, Brothels, Dominance, Exhibitionism, F/F, F/M, FOR OTAYURI AND VICTUURI SEE BOURBON NEAT (not yet posted), Genetics, Gratuitous Smut, Kinks, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Character Death, Multi, Multiple Endings, Omega Katsuki Yuuri, Omega Yuri Plisetsky, Omegaverse, Option 1: Yuri/Otabek + Yuuri/Victor, Option 2: Yuri/Yuuri/Victor, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Rape/Non-con, Pole Dancing, Rimming, Slow Build, Slow Burn, THIS STORY IS THE ENDING PAIRING YURI/YUURI/VICTOR, Threesome - M/M/M, Transgender, Yakov is the best skatedad, Yuri, pharmaceuticals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-01 00:25:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 146,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10910520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowine/pseuds/glowine
Summary: When Alphas present on their 19th birthday, they often go to a Sugarhouse of Omegas to manage the extreme symptoms of their presentation rut. Victor takes Alpha-to-be Yuri to Japan and convinces him to spend his birthday at Yutopia, where High Tier Sweet Katsuki “Eros” Yuuri takes patrons for impressive fees. Events don't go as planned, and suddenly the three of them must embark on a whole new life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> When this plot bunny came into my head, I honestly set aside everything I was writing and smashed out over 30k of this.... This diverts from canon when Yuuri turns 19, but the story actually begins when Yuri turns 19. Because of this divergence and Katsuki's resulting life experiences... he's a bit more confident than he is in canon. I'm hoping to keep the core of his personality the same, though. 
> 
> This fic has 2 endings and breaks midway through.  
> Pairings in first half: Yuuri/Yuri  
> Ending 1: Yuri/Yuuri/Victor (Sweet as Sugar)  
> Ending 2: Yuri/Otabek + Yuuri/Victor (to be posted under: Bourbon Neat)
> 
> I will be able to post regularly for quite some time, which is something I'm really happy about! Please enjoy, and let me know what you think!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little world building and some introductions.

“Yurotchka, not only is it tradition, it’s a good idea. You can find someone to help you through your rut.” Victor carded a hand through his hair and looked over at the blonde sitting next to him at the bar.

The young man glared back and tightened his grip on the glass in front of him. “I have no interest in picking up an omega whore for the weekend. I don’t need one. I’ll be fine on my own.”

Victor sighed. They had been having this argument for the last few weeks preceding Yuri’s 19th birthday, and now they were out of time. The boy was due to present at midnight, as everyone did, and he had all the symptoms of an alpha-to-be. And thank God for that; Yuri wouldn’t have been able to continue skating if he had presented as an omega. The weaker sex was expected to keep out of the limelight, quiet, respectful, and distant. They absolutely had their uses, of course, and Victor had never really understood the societal habit of pulling them from their chosen paths of life and blending them into domestic life or the underside of the cities.

Plenty of them got bonded and had families; that was essentially their purpose after all. However, for the ones that preferred their freedom and the right to make their own decisions, there was little work outside the certified red light district.

Victor himself had been given plenty of options for bonding, but he had preferred the carefree single life himself for the last decade or so, and as an alpha that was a privilege he was allowed. Truth be told he wouldn't mind bonding someone now, but he had yet to find an omega that really challenged or excited him outside of the bedroom. He wanted a a partner in every sense on the word, not just Omega to his Alpha. Even when he was seeing someone, he still spent his seasonal ruts at a sugarhouse, avoiding the urge to bond his current omega that was always expressed in such situations. It was there that the unbonded omegas waited for temporary partners in need to come and receive care. It was even a respectable profession, or as respectable a profession as an omega could have. A few alphas worked in the houses, too, for the needy omegas in heat that stumbled in. Often enough, those omegas ended up attached, and if the alpha agreed, the pair bonded and moved onto the expected societal requirement of breeding. For this reason, Alphas in sugarhouses tended to be constantly rotating, using the job to find a mate, in direct contrast to the stable omega population.

When Victor first presented, a decade some ago, Yakov had taken him to a sugarhouse in Japan, explaining that his family before him had always come here for their presentation. For Victor, the habit had stuck. The omegas here behaved differently than in Russia… they actually seemed happy; less put-upon, rarely did they seem poorly cared for by the heads of their houses. He had seen fear and worry in the eyes of Russian omega sweetworkers the first time he had gotten caught by an unexpected rut and had to run into the nearest sugarhouse.

It made sense; afterall, Japanese Alphas and Omegas were waiting longer and longer to bond. Instead, they were focusing on themselves and their own lives. Less and less breeding was happening, and less people wanted children at all. Everyone had to find temporary mates for their cycles if they wanted to avoid suffering, and almost no one was willing to bond at presentation in the Asian country. In parts of the Middle East and Africa, many bondings were still arranged at presentation. Thus, sugarhouses were few and far between and sweetworkers were highly discriminated against… regarded as “lures” away from healthy bondings. Russia still had plenty of this prejudice as well, given the earlier average marriage and bonding ages.

Since then, he’d been returning to Japan and exploring their scene. And thus, he and Yuri were sitting in a bar in Hasetsu on the eve of the young man’s presentation.

“I only agreed to come to Japan so you would leave me the fuck alone,” Yuri said scowling. “I am not going into one of those damn places to… whatever… this is stupid.” Russian societal beliefs were strong in Yuri. He slid his glass from hand to hand across the bar, the brown liquid in it sloshing around but never quite making it over the rim to slop onto his hand. He looked like the picture of teenaged angst, although Victor thought he ought to have out grown such behavior before he started drinking bourbon neat.

Victor made a noncommittal noise in response. Yuri wasn’t the first alpha… or beta… or omega even… to disdain the sugarhouses, but in general the houses were viewed as refuges for a lot of people and fun for a lot of others. He had always been brought up to believe that Omega sweets were decent, upright people performing a needed service. He always tipped well, and the omegas always asked them to come back… whether that was normal client-seeking behavior or not, Victor felt he treated the omegas with their due respect and hoped that their appearance of liking him wasn’t all an act. He took a sip of his own gin and tonic, internally scowling at how Yuri had picked up Mila’s drink of choice instead of his own.

“Listen, Yurotchka, let me tell you something, and then if you still say no, I’ll drop it. We’re right in between the ryokan and a Sweetrow anyway, so you can change your mind if you—” Yuri cut Victor off to express that he was definitely not going to change his mind, but Victor held up a hand, and the tirade silenced.

“As I was saying… your rut is going to hit in about an hour, and when that happens, you will experience some emotions that you’ve never felt before.” Victor remembered his own presentation rut. He had the experience filed somewhere between and “absolutely out of control” and “pleasurable beyond belief.” The Japanese omega who had guided him through it had been beautiful, perhaps in her late twenties. The image of Azumi below him was burned into his mind and eternally tied to the feeling of desperate need that she had sated for him.

The memory was thick with her particular omegian scent, the sight of her raven hair curled around his hands, and the sensation of her strong thighs wrapped around his waist. He remembered how she hadn’t expressed any fear when his eyes changed to golden amber and filled with the lust and fury of the rut. How she’d encouraged him to scream and rip off her clothes, showed him it was okay to be rough, had supported him right next to the line without crossing into dangerous territory. How her eyes had glowed the silver response of a proper devoted omega. He had taken her that night in a safe, secure environment, and he was incredibly grateful for Yakov’s wisdom in bringing him here and for Azumi’s training and skill.

In the years since his presentation rut, he had learned much more control, but that didn’t mean the desperate need had waned in any way. You could never quite remember what it felt like until it wrapped itself around you.

“You’re going to be wildly out of control. And you’re going to effectively need to fuck someone or kill something. You’re probably going to destroy the hotel room.” Then, Victor recounted the tale of their rinkmate. Georgi had had the misfortune of being one of the extremely rare alphas to present early. Perhaps 1 in 50,000. And considering the comparatively reduced number of alphas in society, this was something no one could have been prepared for. They had locked him in a room, unable to get him to an emergency sugarhouse or find an omega at such short notice. When he had emerged the next day, he had been different. His eyes were dark and sunken, scratches and bites covered his body, and the room was unrecognizable. Yakov had felt awful, and Victor wasn’t sure he had forgiven himself to this day.

When he finished the story, Yuri’s eyes had acquired a touch of worry and he was chewing the edge of his lower lip. “It can’t… it can’t really be that… Is that what will happen to me?” The boy stared pleadingly at his older friend. Good. It was time Yuri started taking this seriously. It was unfortunate that Victor had to turn something that should have been exciting and enjoyable into a threat to make the idiot understand, but he supposed whatever it took was worth it.

“It could. It varies with everyone. Georgi’s was rough.” Victor physically shrugged off the memory. “The thing is, when it hits, you’re not going to really be able to have rational thoughts. So you won’t be able to actually pick someone, should you choose to. I can’t take you in there already in a rut. It’s too dangerous. We have to go ahead of time, let you meet someone, and then it’s your choice. I can take you out, but I can’t get you in after midnight. I don’t know where an emergency house is around here… and they’re not exactly what I would suggest for your presentation rut anyway.”

Yuri continued to chew on his lip and appeared to be mentally chewing on the information he was given. Eventually, he asked for clarification: “So, we go in to this place. I decide if I want to stay. If I don’t, we leave and go back to the hotel. Right?”

Victor nodded. He really hoped it didn’t come to that. He also didn’t expect it to. Yuri hadn’t been around many omegas, and he had yet to experience the scent and sight of the beautiful, perfectly trained sweets. He wouldn’t be able to appreciate them completely until he presented, but it was still likely to cement his decision firmly in the ‘Stay’ category.

Yuri took a deep breath. He raised the glass to his lips and drained it before slamming it back down on the counter. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Yutopia was perhaps a quarter of a mile away. The Russians walked past numerous other houses in the row, but Victor had specifically chosen this sugarhouse based on a friend’s personal review. He glanced over at Yuri. The boy had his hands shoved in the pockets of his hooded jacket, probably hiding his clenched fists both from the February chill and from Victor’s sight. He had grown tremendously since his early teenage years, almost reaching Victor’s own height. Lean muscle had filled out his chest and arms, and his black trousers cut a sharp form around an ass and legs defined by the grueling regimen of skating. Now only if his damn personality would mature, he would make an excellent mate for someone.

“Here we are!” Victor stopped and gestured delightedly in front of a tall building; red and gold lights flashing off the sign proudly announced “Yutopia: Hasestsu’s Most Exquisite Sugarhouse.” There were two metal doors set into the building under the sign, each with a letter scrolled across it in a looping engraving: Α and Ω.

Snow had started falling, turning pink as it entered the red lights. It was settling delicately on Yuri’s head and tightly strained shoulders. “Are you ready?” Victor asked carefully. Yuri wasn’t looking at him, but he could see the aura of agitation as clearly as the snow.

The boy obviously steeled himself and then strode past Victor and pushed the Ω door open. A luscious, ambrosial scent immediately hijacked their noses. Yuri let out an almost-pained gasp that ended with a hissing intake through his teeth. Victor smirked. It seemed as though he had been right… the perfume alone would probably be enough to draw Yuri in.

He followed the boy’s slow footsteps into the entrance room. Two women beamed at their approach from behind a beautifully stained desk. They both came forward, offering greeting and welcome, helping the men off with their coats. One of them darted into the side room, presumably to hang their winter protection in its appropriate place. The other returned to her original spot behind the desk.

“First time at Yutopia?” She asked. Yuri nodded slowly with an audible swallow.

The brunette woman smiled, not mentioning the obvious youth of her patron. “My name is Yuko. We just need to get your affairs in order, won’t take more than a few moments. Then I can show you around and introduce you to some of our sweets that might be… most suitable for your situation.” Of course, she could tell that Yuri hadn’t presented yet; that he would be presenting at midnight. He reeked of the characteristic spicy scent.

Then she turned to Victor. “Are you expecting a rut also, partaking for pleasure, or simply dropping off your friend?” Her hands identified forms from a file cabinet to her left by touch as she questioned her guest. Clearly she had been doing this for quite some time.

“It depends on if I find someone I wish to spend time with,” Victor replied pleasantly. “But I am not expecting a rut, no.” He knew she only asked for contractual issues. She would likely be able to smell that he was nowhere near a rut of his own. “But I’ll take care of the fees for Yurotchka… Yuri.”

“Excellent,” Yuko replied. She whipped several forms in front of her and spread them across the desk. “Please read these carefully and fill them out with your information. We’ll take a blood sample, collect your and Yuri’s fees, and then I’ll give you the grand tour.

Yuri frowned and looked over at Victor, “Blood sample?” His confused expression pulled the worry from his eye brows. Victor noted that he didn’t make any comment about paying the fees. Seems as the boy would indeed be staying… even if he didn’t know it yet.

Victor collected the forms and two clipboards with pens and guided Yuri over to a seating area with plushy red armchairs. “It’ll talk about that in the forms, but I’ll explain it all to you.” At first glance he recognized the official compliance and liability release forms expected at each establishment, a patron information form with identification requirements, and a Yuutopia-specific explanation of fees and available services.

“Every sugarhouse takes a DNA sample from all of their patrons. Some places take hair or cheek cells, and some places take blood. I prefer the blood, because it’s least likely there will be some kind of mix up. Through some sciencey stuff I’ve never been smart enough to understand, they figure out your genetic identity and label you with it in case something happens to one of the omegas while you’re here. Does that make sense?”

Yuri nodded, reaching out and taking his set of forms and settling down to fill out his identification information. “So the rest of this is basically saying I have to be on my best behavior or I get kicked out and fined, never to be readmitted?”

“Essentially. It all looks standard. It’s safe to sign your name on the dotted line.” Victor then did so on his own forms with a flourish. He flipped to the fees and services page, of which he had kept both his and Yuri’s pages. He selected the options for Male Presentation Rut with Selected Omega, which included a full night’s stay with a noon check-out, partial coverage for accidental property damage, the option to choose an omega rather than be assigned one, and a Private room. After some consideration, he checked the High Tier Option. Victor wanted Yuri to be able to choose any Omega he liked, regardless of his or her status and required compensation, and it would be best if Yuko also introduced them. The HT sweets were often the most experienced and beautiful omegas present in a sugarhouse, and Victor didn’t put it past Yuri to accidentally choose one. In the extremely small likelihood that Yuri didn’t, Victor wouldn’t be charged for it. Like that could possibly happen. He chuckled.

Yuri suddenly made a choked noise, and Victor turned his head to see that the boy was staring with incredulous eyes at the fees list that Victor was filling out. “That’s… this costs thousands of dollars! What the fuck?!”

Victor turned the form away from view. “You only present once, Yurotchka… You’ll understand afterwards. They are absolutely worth their weight in gold.” In his peripheral vision, he noticed Yuko smile and stand up, padding over to them to sit herself elegantly into a chair next to them.

“I’m glad to hear you say that. I’m certain you two will be most enjoyable and kind patrons. Do you have any questions?” She had brought along a small bloodwork kit and held out her hands in expectation.

Victor immediately gave her his left hand, and she sanitized, pricked, resanitized, and bandaged his ring finger with extreme speed and precision. Victor didn’t even feel it. Damn, she was good. She labeled the vial and handed it over for Victor to sign. She also held out an ink pad, which he dabbed his left index finger in and pressed against the allotted space on the vial.

Yuri watched the entire affair apprehensively before narrowing his eyes in confusion. “That’s all you need?”

“One drop will do ya!” Yuko replied, placing Victor’s sample in a bag and setting it aside. Yuri acquiesced to the treatment, and Yuko repeated the procedure with the same efficiency.

Victor turned back to his own services form and checked the option for Company, Non-Rut Influenced. He also marked To Be Determined Continuation of Experience. His fee was exorbitantly less expensive than Yuri’s, due to the upcharge for necessity and liability coverage that clung to presentation ruts like a barnacle. It didn’t matter… even if Yutopia was on the more expensive side even for sugarhouses. You got what you paid for, and Victor fervently believed that how a presentation rut was managed set the stage for an alpha’s lifestyle and mental and emotional stability. There were studies on it, after all.

Yuko took their IDs over to her desk to take copies, and the men finished their paperwork before joining her. Victor pulled out his credit card and handed it over. She took the VISA with a small bow and stored it in a drawer. “Thank you, Sir; a receipt of all charges will be given to you along with the return of your cards upon your departure from Yutopia. Now, shall I show you to our Sweets?” Her eyes sparkled. This was why Victor loved sugarhouses in Japan. The house mistress expressed respect, affection, and pride for her charges. It was at this point that he was certain he had selected a good sugarhouse for his friend’s presentation.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to meet Eros!

Yuko brought Victor and Yuri past the closed doors to the private rooms, explaining the sound- and scent-proofing and the various amenities. She also briefly mentioned that the omegas had an emergency alarm system they could activate should anything go wrong, but understandably she didn’t go into detail. Of course they wouldn’t want their patrons to know how it all worked.

At last, Yuko stood in front of a door painted bright red. Victor watched Yuri carefully. He really didn’t want to miss the boy’s first expression upon seeing what was basically akin to Alpha Heaven. His own first look into a sugarhouse had had him on his knees, Yakov laughing at his side. The man had probably been thinking nostalgically of his own first time. Victor really loved traditions.

Yuri did not disappoint. Yuko pushed the door open, and the powerful aroma defined only as Omega hit them like a wall. It did not waft in gently; it was as though the scent had been pushing against the closed door, desperate to be free, to seek Alphas, to seek mates. Yuri bared gritted teeth and pulled in a long hissing breath. He had to brace himself against the wall. His left hand clenched white knuckles around the door frame, his body leaning unconsciously forward. His presentation was _very_ close after all. His body would be pushing him to pre-emptively find a mate, even if his brain didn’t understand the change in hormones yet.

Victor peered between his guide and his friend and found that the room was essentially an upscale dance club. The predominant presentation was clearly omega with a few alphas and betas scattered in the mix: a situation you wouldn’t find anywhere outside of a sugarhouse. The bodies writhed together, twisted sinuously around each other to sensual, pulsing music. The lights were not as dim as would be expected at a normal night club, likely so potential partners could see each other. Interestingly, certain areas were lit at varying degrees from the main floor. Off to the side, translucent, organza curtains partially obscured a darkened seating area to create an atmosphere of heated, comfortable privacy. Behind the hazy red fabric, couches and chaise lounges matched the waiting area’s squashy, plush armchairs; a few were draped with blurry, relaxed bodies.

Opposite the seating area, a bar made of dark, lacquered wood was managed by a short, androgynous man with a perpetual scowl. Slowly changing lights lit the area and glinted off the glasses. The raven-haired bartender was cleaning glassware with a godlike efficiency while conversing with a clearly interested green-eyed man with a mop of brown hair. When a tall blonde man waved for another drink, the bartender eyed him carefully before shaking his head and making a cutting motion to his throat with a soapy hand. Victor noted that this was probably a sugarhouse that didn’t permit omegas or patrons to become too intoxicated. That was his preference. It was early yet for a sugarhouse, and both the bar and seating lounge were relatively sparsely populated.

Victor and Yuri followed Yuko a couple of steps down onto a black oak dance floor.  A woman darted over to them and Victor recognized her as the one had taken their coats at the door.

“Mari, this is Victor and Yuri,” Yuko introduced. “Yuri will be presenting tonight, and I’d like you to go and collect several of the high tier omegas and…”

She was interrupted by the music stuttering as the DJ shook the record he was on. The lights in the entire club coalesced onto the black oak stage set against the far wall of the dance club.

“Ah, 11:30 already?” Yuko noted. “Well, this can wait until after the performance anyway. Eros only takes about 10 minutes. This is an incredible show.”

The lights flashed once, twice, three times and then all went black. A spotlight lit slowly on the stage, and the velvet curtain drew back. What it revealed had Victor’s breath caught in his throat. The pole was at least a time and half taller than any dancing pole he had ever seen, and it was gold. Hanging upside-down, one knee curled backward around the pole and the other leg extended perpendicularly away from it, a man had his back arched away from the pole, arms stretched out. Waves of raven hair fell loose with gravity toward the floor, and stunning aged bronze eyes pierced through Victor. A little smirk turned at the corner of his lips, and the beautiful man ran his tongue over his lower lip.

A deep voice came from the speakers as the DJ introduced the man on the stage. “Presenting Eros: Yutopia’s Highest Tier Omega. Please enjoy the show.” And then music replaced the words.

Shock slid through Victor as “On Love: Eros,” the partner to the song he had selected for Yuri’s season’s short-program, twined its way through the air until it hit the man who was clearly its epitome. Victor was glad now that he had chosen Agape instead of Eros. Yuri’s confidence would have been shattered comparing his own performance to this man’s.

A tight grip caught Victor’s wrist, and he tore his eyes away, changing his sight to Yuri. The boy’s own eyes were wider than he had ever seen them, the green boiling with flecks of Alpha gold, and they were focused unwavering on the stage. Of course. The boy was completely infatuated with literally the most expensive Omega in the club. Figured.

Victor turned his attention back to “Eros.” The man was wearing a black pair of shorts with some sort of half skirt that did little to hide the impressive musculature of his ass. The top half of the outfit was an elaborate array of black material and transparent black netting, accented with shards that looked almost like glass. Fingerless black sleeves wrapped around his hands and wrists looking as though they grew there.

Eros had climbed up higher on the pole, somehow still upside-down, and Victor could imagine his abdominal muscles flexing in exertion. His mouth watered at the idea of tracing those muscles with his tongue. Victor felt his face grow hot; it seemed Yuri wasn’t the only one who was enamored.

The omega pushed himself away from the pole, releasing it completely before flipping over his head to right himself. Gasps were raised from the crowd, and some woman let out a little scream, but Eros was in no danger. He caught the pole with both hands and split his legs wide around it, arching his back to give the crowd a truly impressive view. He held the pose with the pole turning slowly before whipping his legs in tightly and rocketing the spin fiercely faster. After a few moments he seemed to deem the speed was appropriate, and he extended his legs out into an over-stretched center split in a sudden thrust parallel to the pole, bracing the metal between his back and both calves. As the revolving pole slowed, Eros’ eyes caught the audience’s and with his free hands he caressed his own face and throat.

Victor swallowed harshly and looked away, his pants becoming uncomfortably tight.

“Your dancer is extremely agile,” he commented.

“My brother was a professional figure skater before he presented,” Mari replied proudly, watching the man with a fond smile. “He was just about ready to start skating on the Senior level when his time ran out.” The last phrase had an edge of bitterness to it, as if Mari understood that Eros’ talent was wasted here.

“A figure skater?” Yuri snapped, still watching the show. “What’s his name? That couldn’t have been too long ago, we probably know him.”

Mari frowned. “Why would you two know him?”

“I’ve been coaching rather than skating for the last year, but Yurotchka is still skating professionally, and I was previously.”

“You’re Victor Nikiforov.” The words of realization that suddenly left Mari’s lips were not a question. “He used to watch you all the time when he was younger. I think you were his idol.” She rubbed at her eyes and blinked a few times. “Not that we watch any skating at all anymore… Not since he presented. It’s too painful for him.”

Victor didn’t respond. He was still watching Eros; the dancer was finally on the floor, twirling around the pole expertly before he raised a leg up behind him and caught hold of it with his hands. The move was clearly modeled after the Bielmann position, and Victor wondered if he had done his own choreography. Eros caught hold of the pole between his hands and his foot and kicked off the ground, revolving in the difficult position. Victor felt a twinge of sadness flow through him. It was such a shame… he didn’t often think about what it was like for Omegas to be pulled from their careers. The man had probably made an impressive ice skater. His strength and stamina were amazing…

Yuri snapped his fingers in annoyance. “Name. What’s his name?” Victor was pulled out of his reverie by Yuri’s sharp question, and he looked to see Mari’s mouth open in a scowl, but Yuko cut in smoothly. “I’m afraid the real names of our sweets are the property of them alone. Only they can give them out as they please. Eros’ dance will be over soon, and you’re welcome to ask him yourself.”

“I’d like an introduction, please,” Yuri said clearly.

“Ah… well…” Yuko looked uneasy for the first time since Victor and Yuri had entered the club. “I’m afraid Eros does not engage patrons for presentation ruts anymore.”

The music had spiraled to a climax, and Victor looked back to the stage. Eros was sliding down the pole one last time, thighs tight against it, legs straight out behind him. He waved coyly at the audience from his superman-like position, and the curtains closed. If Eros wasn’t willing to be involved in patron ruts… that meant Yuri would have to choose someone else. And that meant Victor might have a shot.

Yuri was currently sputtering in annoyance, and Victor interrupted him with a question for Yuko. “Does he take patrons outside of presentation ruts, then? Or does he only dance and socialize?” The lights returned to normal as eruptions of applause came from the crowd.

“Eros chooses his own patrons, these days,” Mari hollered over the roar. Then she took off into the crowd, and Victor remembered that Yuko had earlier asked her to fetch some Omegas.

Yuri was scowling. “Figures. I actually find someone interesting in this place, and I’m not appropriate for him.” He bit out the words.

“Come, let’s go over to the couches.” Yuko lead the way over to the slightly darkened area, and as they chose seats and made themselves comfortable, Victor noticed a man and woman part from the crowd and make their ways toward their location. The woman appeared first. Her long black hair hung loose, and she had chosen a pink dress that complimented her olive skin tone perfectly.

“May I present Starla, one of our high tier omegas. Starla, please meet Victor and Yuri. Yuri will be presenting tonight.” Yuko’s voice sounded as if she had repeated similar sentences several thousand times, and Victor estimated that it was probably even more than that.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Starla replied, dropping her head and chest in a smooth bow. She walked over and took a seat on the couch beside Yuri. “Are you excited for tonight?” she asked.

Yuri looked at Yuko and then at Victor. “I… uh… that is to say…”

Victor took a moment to identify the problem, and that was longer than Yuko needed. “Starla, I don’t think this is a good pairing for Yuri. Could you please find your brother or Fa Gao?”

Starla bounced off the couch, amusement coloring her face. “Certainly.” Then, she turned back to Yuri, “I’m missing a piece you’re interested in, eh?” Yuri’s ears burned red. “No hard feelings, honey.” Starla practically skipped back into the throng. She slapped hands with the Asian man approaching, tag-team style, before he replaced her.

“May I present high tier omega Peach…” The introductions were repeated as before, and Peach took the same seat Starla had vacated.

“Hello,” he said pleasantly. His eyes and smile were wide and innocent. A perfect Omega…

“Where are you from?” Victor asked, trying to start a conversation.

“Thailand!” Peach replied, enthusiasm entering his expression. “I’m here because Yuu-kun invited a good number of us from our respective sugarhouses. He said it was a really nice place to work.”

“And who is Yuu-kun?” Yuri asked. He leaned back against the couch, considering the Thai man with a bit of interest.

“He’s the one who was------” Yuko cut Peach off with a sharp call of his name.

“Um… He’s another omega here. We’re really good friends.”

Yuri seemed to let it go. “And is it a good place to work?”

“It’s the best,” said a voice from over Victor’s shoulder. Victor turned around to see Eros standing there, smiling lightly. He didn’t even look mildly exerted despite his activities from just a few minutes ago. He had changed out of the glass and ashes outfit into something sparkling and blue with the occasional mesh cut-out.

Yuko looked over and smiled. “May I present Eros…” Yuko was interrupted by several voices at the same time.

“I heard you were a skater,” Victor started.  
“Your dance was amazing!” Yuri gushed.  
“Yuu-kun!” Peach chimed in.

Eros laughed. “Peach, you used my real name…”

The Thai omega’s hands flew to his mouth. Yuko was looking at him with narrowed, displeased eyes. “I’m sorry…” he whispered.

Eros took a seat next to Victor. “My name is Yuuri, but I’d rather you stick to my stage name in public like this.” He gestured around himself in a wide arc, presumably to the plethora of people within earshot. “My sister said you might like to talk to me.”

“Yuuri…” Victor rolled the name around on his tongue, looking for familiarity. He tried thinking back to the junior skaters from years past, but he didn’t know how old the omega was, and that made it difficult to pinpoint.  “You were a figure skater in the Junior division, right? When?”

Eros’s response was noncommittal. “Oh some years back, I don’t like to think on it really. It was fun while it lasted. You look different now Victor. You had long hair back then.” He ran his fingers through his own silky black locks; the hair didn’t quite reach his shoulders and fell in slightly messy waves framing his face.

Victor was struck with sudden pleasure at the idea that the beautiful omega actually knew who he was.

“You were my idol back then…” Eros mused, chin lifted, tapping the corner of his mouth with one finger as he let himself remember. “I had so many posters of you.” He chuckled. "It was my dream to skate on the same ice as you, and I almost made it…” Darkness swirled in his bronze eyes, and he was lost from the present for the next few seconds, enveloped in the what-could-have-been.

“I’m in the Senior division now, and my name is Yuri, too…” The young Russian commented. “How coincidental.” His entire attention had focused immediately on the man next to Victor, and he seemed to have forgotten that the other Omega, Peach, even existed. Peach didn’t seem to notice or mind. He too looked pleased that Eros had joined them.

The shadows in his eyes lessened, and Eros came back to the conversation with a smile. “It sounds quite similar. You may call me Eros if it’s easier for you, or we can call you something else.”

Mari appeared over Eros’ left shoulder. “How about Yurio? That’s cute.” She leaned down and combed her hands through her brother’s hair, pulling it back away from his face and handed him a pair of glasses. He smiled back at her before unfolding and setting them on his nose.

Yuri and Victor stared. The man had somehow just become even more attractive, which Victor was certain should have been impossible. Yuri was leaning all the way forward, just barely on the edge of seat. A good wind would have him sprawled on the floor. “I’ll take your lack of disagreement as a yes then, Yurio.” Eros said smiling.

Yuri pulled back. “I… all right….”

Dear Lord, the boy was smitten.

“Eros…” Yuko interjected, “I don’t mean to rush you, but we need to find someone for Yurio before midnight.” It seemed everyone was taking to Yuri’s new nickname.

“Oh are you presenting? Congratulations! I’m sorry I didn’t notice. The scents in here can become rather overwhelming, and eventually we get a little deadened to it.” Then Eros glanced to a clock on a nearby wall. “Hmm… you only have ten minutes. You really ought to choose someone. Peach is lovely.” The Thai omega cocked his head in response, clearly pleased at the praise.

“You,” Yuri stated immediately.

Eros’ eyebrows rose. “That’s rather bold of you. I’m sure Yuko told you I don’t do presentation ruts.”

“She did, but there isn’t anyone else here I’m interested in… If you don’t join me then there just isn’t anyone else. I’ll go through it alone”

Victor stared at Yuri. That was a lot of pressure to put on someone. You have to join me for my rut or I’ll basically end up killing myself because I refuse to be with anyone else. Then again… it was pretty flattering as well. He wondered how Eros would take it.

Eros stared at Yuri. Yuko knotted her hands together apprehensively, glancing at the clock again. And then the stunning Omega burst out laughing. His hand slapped down on Victor’s thigh as he keeled forward, wheezing in an attempt to draw in air through peals of laughter. “Kid, you have no idea what you are talking about. Going through any rut without an omega, let alone a presentation rut, is akin to asking to be eaten alive by fire ants.”

Peach and Yuko were chuckling lightly at the comparison, too.

Victor frowned. He’d never heard an omega talk like that. They were always subservient. Eager for patrons. Then again, Eros probably only had to take one patron a month to meet his quota, considering how high his rates likely were. The hand on his leg felt like it was burning through his pants. He didn’t think Eros had done it on purpose, but that didn’t stop a plethora of fantasies from swelling up in Victor’s brain.

Yuri colored slightly, but he wasn’t backing down. He stood up, shrugging off Peach’s hand, and took a step toward Eros. “I have ten… eight minutes to convince you to do this with me. What do I need to do to make that happen?”

Eros cocked his head to the side, apparently pleased with Yuri’s guts. “Come here,” he murmured, holding out a hand.

Victor watched as Yuri obliged, crossing the short space and kneeling down in front of the omega. This was something that Victor had never seen before. He had never seen an omega give a command, and he had never seen an alpha, or someone who would be an alpha in… seven minutes, obey. Where the hell was he? Or a better question… who was Eros? Who was Yuuri? Victor was immensely turned on by the display and he had no idea why. It went against everything he’d ever understood about the dynamics.

Eros reached out a hand and slid his fingers through Yuri’s golden hair, pushing it back behind his ear. Then he cupped the boy’s jaw and leaned in close. “What do you want me to do, Yurio?” He purred.

“Make my presentation memorable. Make me feel it. Make me yours.” Yuri’s response was soft and easy, yet passionate. It was like he’d been ready to answer that question for his entire life.

The only tell of surprise on Eros’ face was a slight widening of his eyes, but that was gone so quickly that Victor wasn’t sure if he had only imagined it.

Eros tipped Yuri’s head back and forth in his hand as if examining him. He paused for a moment, and then…“All right. I will guide you through your presentation.”

Mari sputtered from behind her brother. “Yuuri, you don’t have to do this… you haven’t taken on a presentation in months!”

Yuko had already stood up. In fact, she had been on her feet the second Eros had started his agreement. “You should go now. It’s 5 minutes until midnight. Room 7 is set for him.”

Eros nodded and stood, taking hold of Yuri’s hand and helping the boy to his feet.

Dammit, Victor thought, slightly put out. Well, at least Yuri was going to have a fantastic presentation… and really, wasn’t that the most important part? He mentally chastised himself for hoping that Yuuri would refuse the younger Russian in hopes that he could have come to bed with Victor.

“Have a good night, Yurotchka!” He crowed, burying his disappointment.

“Thank you, Vitya...” Yuri murmured, actually seeming grateful for once, on his way past as Eros lead him back toward the rows of rooms that they had seen on their tour.

Eros laid a hand on the handle to the door marked with an intricate number 7 and glanced back. Victor could have sworn he saw a sliver of omega silver and even possibly… a flash of regret? Perhaps that was wishful thinking. Then the door was closing, and Victor could see, hear, and smell them no more from behind the stringent barriers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to Wikipedia, Fa Gao is: “a Chinese cupcake-type pastry made with rice flour and yeast, the batter is typically left to rest for fermentation (such as overnight) prior to being steam-cooked. Commonly consumed on the Chinese New Year.” I thought it would be cute to name Guang Hong after a pastry, cinnamon roll that he is.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit short, but that's just how the word count ran... Generally chapters will be around 3000-ish words each. My apologies for those of you that like long chapters! But it's worth the wait, right?
> 
> So I've decided to update Tuesday's and Fridays. I'm currently traveling around Europe, so head with me!

The door shut behind him and Yuri glanced around the room. He was nervous beyond belief. He had thought the likelihood of him actually finding someone he wanted tonight to be somewhere around 5%. And here was a someone who was out of his wildest dreams. Apparently, he was terrible at statistics. Even more unfortunately, Yuri had to admit that Victor was right. This would be millions of times better than spending his rut alone. He imagined he could feel it building, but he’d been told that wouldn’t start until midnight.

Eros was puttering around the room, pulling back the bed linens and drawing colored crepe over the lights, diffusing them into a gentle red haze. He seemed to be taking an inventory: counting the water bottles in the small refrigerator; patting an extra set of sheets and a slew of towels. Yuri loitered by the door, not quite sure what to do with himself, except for some reason he felt like he should be checking the room for dangers. _Because that makes sense... find the intruders in the tiny sweethouse room..._ With his heightened observation skills, not that he would admit how poor they normally were,  Yuri noticed that the room had a small bathroom attached and wondered if that came standard, if it was just because it was his presentation, or if it was just because he was with Eros.

The dark-haired omega seemed satisfied with his checks and set himself on the end of the bed. “Yurio, come here. It’s best for you to be touching me when it starts.” He held out a hand palm up, and Yuri went to him as if compelled, catching the hand and sitting at his side.

“You’re very obedient for a pre-Alpha,” Eros said, amusement shining in eyes. He took Yuri’s arm and wrapped is around himself, leaning into the boy’s chest and looking up through thick black eye lashes.

Yuri swallowed and tried to relax the tension in his muscles, not exactly sure where his hands were supposed to go. “I just… don’t want to do something stupid and have you kick me out of here.” He decided Eros’ waist was probably safe and looped his arms together, settling his clasped hands above the hip.

Eros’ mouth fell into an incredulous grin. “Yurio… the contract was set when I verbally confirmed with Yuko. I can’t kick you out unless you break one of the commandments you signed off on… like actually hurting me or whatnot.” He chuckled and nosed his face into Yuri’s neck.

The blonde let his head fall away to give better access with a groan and pulled the other man closer, his grip tightening.

“That’s better,” Eros murmured against his skin, drawing his lips over the sensitive gland he found there. Yuri shuddered.

“What… what should I call you, now that we’re in here?” Yuri hoped his words weren’t garbled. He felt like his mouth was full of cotton. Now that they were sequestered in a room, Eros’ scent was undiluted, and Yuri felt himself enveloped in the smell of brown sugar and rain _._ Suddenly, he felt his own scent rise, flooding the area with poppy and smoke. So, it was beginning… He’d often wondered what his scent would be, and he decided he liked it.

Eros let out a little purr and nipped at Yuri’s scent gland, earning a sharp inhale. “We’re in private now, so if it pleases you to call me Yuuri or just Yuu, you may, but if that’s too confusing, you can stick with Eros. In honestly, you’re probably just going to end up calling me Omega. Don’t think too much on it.” He chuckled against his patron’s skin.

The combination of their scents mixing together invaded Yuri’s senses: his own smoky floral manipulating the more malleable scent into a mouth-watering spicy caramel. He had once heard that the better scents combined, the more likely their wearers were to be compatible. If that was the case, he felt that he and Eros were _very_ compatible. If he could have eaten the surrounding air he would have tried. Instead, he thought he might like to eat Eros… Yuuri.

“It helps in the beginning to talk for a bit,” Yuuri said smiling. He was drawing his hands up and down the younger man’s chest, letting his nails dig through the thin black shirt.

“So…” Yuri complied, trying to keep his mind from wandering off into a haze again. “You said you weren’t doing any presentation ruts? How come you decided to guide mine?”

“Ah well,” came the raven’s response from Yuri’s chest. He was unbuttoning Yuri’s shirt. “There’s something about you that’s different. I’m not sure what it is; you act differently. When you came and kneeled at my feet without asking; let me look at you as long as I like; didn’t chastise me for holding eye contact too long… All of these things were unusual. Alphas don’t act like that generally. Additionally, while I’ve had Pre-Alphas demand or request me, I’ve never had one announce me as their only option… It was quite flattering.”

Yuri shrugged lightly. He didn’t care if his behavior had been off for his dynamic. He had just done what he thought he should; what he’d wanted to do. And if it managed to pull the sweet into bed with him, then whatever it was, he had done it right. Absolutely no regrets there.

“And… to be honest, maybe my inner omega has been a little needy lately. So you’ll be helping me out a bit with that, too. Any other questions,” the sweet asked, nuzzling against Yuri’s chest through his half-unbuttoned shirt.

“How did you end up working here?”                                                                                                                                           

Yuuri sighed and began what seemed like a rehearsed response, as though he'd been asked this question many times before: “I wasn’t actually expected to present as Omega. We thought I would be Beta, so it came as a bit of a surprise. Fortunately, I had a friend who helped me through it. Either way, that was the end of my skating career, of course.”

Even the glossed over mention of another Alpha being with him raised Yuri’s jealousy, and he bit back a growl. That had been years ago. Yuri himself had probably still be in grammar school. Ridiculous. The shirt was undone, and Yuuri was twisting around to get it off of him. He had to pat Yuri’s hands to get them to release. Yuri let out a whine at the loss of contact, and as soon as the offending layers were removed he wrapped his arms back around the omega and pulled him onto his lap, unable to shake the jealous possession that was rising in him.

Yuuri laughed, obviously recognizing the turbulence in his patron’s inexperienced, uncontrolled scent. “That’s going to make it very difficult to get your pants off…” Regardless of his words, he molded himself against the blonde, turning to straddle him, and wrapped his arms around Yuri’s neck to tug gently at his hair. He ignored the hitch in his patron’s breathing. “Anyway… I was really angry when I presented, as I’m sure you can imagine, and I wasn’t exactly in a good place to find a mate. Most omegas already have one lined up before they present, but like I said, I didn’t see it coming. I thought that all my work on the ice was a waste.”

Yuri looked up at the omega, his chest becoming tight. The man was being so damn casual. He tightened his hand on the other’s thighs, not exactly sure how they had gotten there in the first place. God dammit why was everything so heavy all of a sudden? He felt like gravity had been turned up to the max, and he had no idea how to relieve it.

Yuuri leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. “Try to bear it just a little longer, okay? Soon.” Then he pulled back and continued with his story. “Essentially, I travelled around, hiding under suppressants, but I didn’t tolerate them well and they never lasted as long as they were supposed to, so I was pretty much always running from Alphas… Consequently, when Yuko called for the thousandth time and asked me to come home, I did. And I’ve worked here ever since… That was almost 8 years ago.” He tapped the side of his jaw unconsciously, looking to the heavens with the recollection.

Yuri’s hands were definitely out of his control now; he noticed them running up and down the omega’s sides… “I… didn’t expect you to be that old…” he forced his words out, breathless. “Can you… can you take this off, please?” There was something extremely wrong with the fact that Eros still had clothes on. Yuri’s pants were uncomfortably tight, and even though the strange sensation were clouding his head, he still knew he was literally aroused as fuck.

“I’m not that old, thank you.” Yuuri scowled. Spinning around on his patron’s lap, he pulled his hair to the side, revealing a cleverly hidden zipper. “Help me, then.”

Yuri was intensely pleased that there hadn’t been a loss of contact. His hands shaking, it took a couple of tries to grab the tiny zipper pull and wrench it down. He felt like he was losing control of his motor functions, and for some reason he hadn’t really wanted to use the zipper. He wanted to tear off the omega’s clothes. Destroy them. Rip them to shreds simply for keeping him a millimeter farther from the omega’s skin.

Yuuri stood up and turned around, divesting himself of the single piece of glittering blue clothing, leaving only a pair of black spandex shorts. His eyes were wide, omega silver beginning to swirl through the bronze, his instincts recognizing a potential mate. Even when omegas weren’t in heat their bodies recognized an alpha in a rut and gave out a biological urge to sate it.

Yuri let out a growl when he lost physical contact with the omega, and once Yuuri’s clothes were off, he immediately reached to retrieve him. But the raven would not have it. He took a step back, smirking. “Take off the rest of your clothes,” Eros commanded.

The blonde obeyed hastily, ripping off his belt and unbuttoning and unzipping the slacks by muscle memory and tossing them aside. Without another thought, he added his boxer briefs to the pile, leaving himself bare before the one man whom he had ever been self-conscious in front of. It was then that he noticed just how attentive his cock was on the omega as well. It pressed firmly against his stomach. Hard as stone, achingly swollen, with early desire leaking from the tip. He had known he was turned on, but Jesus, the man had hardly touched him.

Eros looked him up and down and smiled. “Very impressive… I think we’ll enjoy ourselves very much tonight. He shed his shorts in one smooth motion and carelessly threw them over his shoulder and walked leisurely up to the taller man.

Yuri swallowed audibly. Standing so close to the omega and yet not touching him was the most horrible thing he had ever experienced. His fingers twitched in need, and his cock firmly concurred. It didn’t occur to him that he was actually looking at the ground until Yuuri’s voice interrupted the swirl of emotion inside his mind.

“Yuri, look at me.”

The young Russian’s eyes snapped up, and he took in the sight of the omega. Head tilted to the side, baring his neck in submission, Yuuri had a slow smile traveling across his face, eyes more silver than bronze now.

“Yuri, come and get what’s yours.”

Something in Yuri snapped, and the room throbbed with the scent of smoke and poppies. A roar tore itself from his chest, and he lunged forward, lifting the omega, _his_ omega, into his arms and falling together with him onto the bed. His hands and tongue roved without seeking a destination, just needing to feel and taste and _consume_.

Yuuri caught his patron’s face in his hands, forcing pure gold eyes to look into his own silver.

“Welcome to a whole new world… Alpha.” And then Yuuri kissed him.

____________________________________________________________________

After the most beautiful man in the world dragged Yuri into a room for literally the best night of the kid’s life, Victor turned back and returned to the dance floor. Hands knotted in his pockets, he let the sweet, soothing scent of unbonded Omega wash over him and sooth his irritated instincts. There really wasn’t anything that quite explained why he was so drawn to Eros… Yuuri… he wasn’t sure if they were the same person, and if they weren’t then he wasn’t sure which one he wanted. Screw that. Needed. He needed the man.

Victor watched the omegas twine around each other and their patrons. He could join then, he’d already paid to be here after all, and it was possible some omega would actually want to come home with him rather than work for the night. Who was he kidding? Everybody was here to get what they needed. He wasn’t going to find the love of his life anywhere. Victor’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. Since when had he been interested in finding a mate?

He heard the soft voice before he saw the lips of its owner. “Alpha?”

The sound was like a brush of fresh air, and Victor looked down at the tiny woman. Her concerned eyes were a muddy brown, but she had dark, flowing, shoulder-length hair. Her body looked lithe but strong, as if she too had regularly worked the pole on the stage. Close e-fucking-nough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I'm so sorry!! All the smuts next time, okay?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we go... Here's where the fun really begins.

The kiss felt like it was grabbing Yuri’s soul and trying to wrench it out through his mouth. His omega’s tongue traced his lips, dipped in and caressed his own, tasting him, teasing him. Yuri’s hands gripped into dark hair, tangling them in and wrenching back the attached head.

His omega let out a hiss and pressed his hips forward into Yuri.

Everything in Yuri was telling to _claim, own, brand, devour_ and at the same time he needed to _rage, destroy, raze the building to the ground._ He dropped his head to a pale throat and slammed his teeth through the skin and into the muscle. The pretty omega winced, but he paid no mind. He needed this.

Pressing the sweet back onto the bed, Yuri could feel his instincts taking over the last of his rational mind. It felt like he was trapped inside his own body, unable to contain his desires. Blood ran down his chin, and he pulled back to admire the wound on his omega’s neck. In the back of his mind, he hoped he hadn’t bitten too deeply. His inner alpha didn’t care. _He_ wanted to bite all the way through. Mark every inch of skin so all the other alphas would know that this omega was _his._ And all of a sudden it was as though Yuri was watching the scene from the outside. He touched his face, and his hand came away clean of blood. He was clearly still growling, but his chest was empty of the rumbling. Frowning, Yuri kept watching.

His omega was panting now, clinging to him and whimpering. Yuri watched himself lean back in and place open-mouthed kisses across the dark-haired man’s collar bone to the center of his chest and down from there. His hands roamed over the smooth skin, nails leaving red rivulets behind them, strong grip squeezing purple bruises into supple flesh. His omega seemed to relish the light pain, hissing in pleasure and struggling to get closer to Yuri.  

Yuri pushed the sweet back on the bed. “Stay down,” he growled, continuing his exploration of his omega’s body. He nipped down Yuuri’s chest and stomach, skipping over the boldly standing, yet somehow completely irrelevant cock, and spreading his ass cheeks wide with both hands. Slick was quickly forming, readying his body for the mating it desperately wanted. His omega moaned softly, responding readily to the inspection.

Yuri pressed a finger against the rapidly dampening entrance, circling it curiously. He glanced up and found Yuuri pinned against the bed as he’d commanded, and that made him smile.

“Please,” his omega begged. “I need something inside me.” His back glued to the bed, he lifted his neck, and Yuri could see the molten silver of his eyes. Holding that contact, the youth slid a finger into the spasming hole. His omega was clearly doing his best not to arch off the bed, and this amused the hell out of the alpha. Without any sort of preamble, he added another finger and pushed and pulled, rubbing against the walls

“Fuuuuck yes!” came the cry from the bed, and Yuri frowned, displeased by the amount of enjoyment Yuuri was getting from such a simple movement. This wasn’t supposed to be what satisfied his omega… This was nothing: just exploration and preparation. He pulled his fingers out abruptly and ignored the keening whine that followed. Yuri examined his hand, rolling the slick between his fingers. It was thick but smooth like glycerin and perfectly clear. He rubbed his fingers together and then spread them apart, admiring how the perfect substance clung and stretched between them.

Yuuri was craning his neck to watch the alpha, breathing heavily in anticipation and desire. His mouth had fallen open, tongue licking dry lips. Finally, the omega whined at his poor view and propped himself up on his elbows to watch Yuri's ministrations.

Curious, Yuri sniffed at his slick-covered hand and flicked out his tongue for a taste. Hmm, it was very gently sweet but otherwise had no flavor. It was as if someone had thrown a pinch of sugar into a pitcher of water… and you had to drink the whole thing to get all the sweetness. Yuri suddenly felt like he needed all of it. He didn’t want to be on the sidelines watching this occur. He needed to be inside himself, even if it was strange and unusual. Yuri walked up to his body and licked the slick-coated hand…

There was a sharp snap within Yuri, and his psyche merged in with Alpha into his body as they finally agreed a course of action; he dove between his omega’s legs and lapped at the now readily flowing slick, not quite able to get his fill. Yuri licked and bit at the lightly sweetened globes and thick thighs before plunging his tongue into the source. Yes… that was what he wanted.  He drank his fill, getting off on his omega’s wild responses and pleading. He was the one causing Yuuri to go insane like this. Him. And no one else but him ever would again. Possessiveness lanced through him, and he stood abruptly, shaking his head. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t shake the need to call the sweet “his omega.” Maybe he would snap out of it when his rut was sated, but for now he was one whole again, and he knew exactly what he wanted to be doing.

“Condom!” Yuuri panted, implicitly recognizing the alpha’s next desire. He slid his hand under the mattress next to his head and retrieved one.  For one hilarious second, the newly-presented alpha wondered if the entire box springs was just full of condoms, but then his omega was throwing him the protection. He caught it and ripped it open, rolling it onto his weeping cock pushing the air from the tip. It wasn’t the first time he’d had sex… just the first time he’d had sex with an omega. So far, there was no comparison.

Said omega appeared to be torn between turning over onto his stomach and keeping himself down against the bed as Yuri had commanded. His chin trembled and he bit his lower lip, looking up at Yuri with beseeching eyes.

“Roll over.”

Yuuri let out a sigh of relief and flipped onto his front, sliding his knees under him and raising his ass in the expected omega presentation. The image made Yuri’s chest tighten, and the lust inside him curled and twisted like a snake ready to strike.

“What a good omega,” He crooned, sliding his hands down his omega’s back to curve around his hips. Yuuri’s face was pressed into the sheets, but from the rumbling in his chest, Yuri was pretty sure he was actually purring. His omega turned his face to the side and forced out: “Please Alpha…. Need you! Need you inside me now!”

Yuri didn’t need to be asked twice. He guided his cock to his omega’s entrance and thrust in sharply, having no more interest in patience or gentleness. The sensation was incredible: surrounded by blissfully hot, rippling muscle. He felt like he was sheathed in the very definition of lewd and illicit. Pulling Yuuri the rest of the way onto his dick, Yuri set a fast pace. He couldn’t bring himself to particularly care about his omega’s enjoyment at the moment, ramming his hips forward and enjoying the sounds of skin slapping on skin mixed with Yuuri’s cries.

The sensations were making his inner alpha go insane. A desperate urge came over him to see his omega’s face. Watch him cry out and grit his teeth and whine. Yuri pulled out and flipped the dark-haired man onto his back, immediately pulling him to the end of the bed and throwing a leg over either shoulder.

“A-alphaa…” Yuuri panted. Then he let out a wail as Yuri plunged back into him. He wrapped a leg around the alpha’s waist and forced himself down onto the pistoning cock, trying to get more force, more friction.

“Harder. Fuck me harder!”

Lust and rage slammed through Yuri at the words, and he leaned over his omega, bending the other man’s legs up and forcing him into a ball. “Omegas do not command. Omegas beg and plead and whimper. Show me you can be a good omega.”

The dark-haired man cried out as Yuri punctuated his words with forceful thrusts. “Please,” Yuuri gasped out. “Please fuck me harder. Please make me a good omega!”

Yuri slipped his hands down to his omega’s ass and lifted him up. Yuuri yipped in surprise but obediently wrapped his legs around his patron’s waist and his arms around his neck. The alpha turned and slammed the dark-haired man against the wall, knocking the wind from the sweet’s lungs, sending him gasping.

“I’ll make you into a good omega, you fucking whore. I’ll make you who you were born to be.” Yuri growled out his promises through feral, grinning teeth, bracing his omega against the wall and thrusting upward frantically into him. A low moan came from deep within Yuuri as if pulled from some long forgotten abyss. He braced himself on Yuri’s shoulder and tilted his hips in several directions, clearly trying to find the optimal position. Yuri let him, it was oddly satisfying to watch his omega struggle a little. He learned momentarily that that satisfaction was _nothing_ compared to what he received when Yuuri suddenly cracked his head back against the wall and _screamed_.

Yuri noted the angle his omega had situated them into and made an effort to replicate it. He wanted more screams. He wanted Yuuri completely out of control, wanton with desire, begging for his knot. His omega was shuddering, clawing at Yuri’s shoulders. Not enough. Never enough.

“Is that fat cock hitting the right place, Sweet?” Yuri asked rhetorically, holding the omega against him and grinding forcefully.

“Yes… yess so good!” Yuuri choked out, weaving his hands into the alpha’s thick, golden hair.                        

“Good Omega,” he replied, his mouth twisting into a sinister curl. Yuri took two steps over to the bed and threw the dark-haired man off of his cock.

The sweet squealed in surprised, landing unharmed but startled on the bed. Yuri stalked forward, hunting his prey, following Yuuri as he crawled backward to the head of the bed. “Mine,” he hissed out. “My omega, mine!” He caught hold of Yuuri’s wrists and levered himself above the other man. “Say it!”

“Yours, Alpha…” Yuuri gulped. “Your omega, yours!”

Yuri let his weight fall onto his self-proclaimed omega and guided himself back into the dripping, gaping opening. Yuuri writhed under him, and he set a merciless pace, needing release and knowing there was only one way to get it. The canal tightened around him as Yuuri expertly manipulated his muscles, milking the alpha’s cock inside him.

“Fuck, yes, just like that!” The newly-presented alpha braced himself on his elbows and pounded brutally into his omega, hissing as he felt himself hover over the edge.

“Come inside me, Alpha,” Yuuri whispered, licking the shell of his ear, “Fill me up.” And it was enough.

Yuri felt his knot swell, and he sank his teeth into the flesh of his omega’s neck, releasing white-hot pulses of fluid and passion into the condom. A guttural groan escaped Yuuri’s mouth as he was stretched out even further. With the release, clarity came back to Yuri’s mind, and coherence replaced the maddening lust and need. He released Yuuri’s wrists from his grip and gently petted the omega’s face, not daring to move with his knot still firmly wedged in other man.

“Yuuri?” He asked softly.

“Yurio,” the sweet replied, eyes focusing on him and smiling. “Welcome back.”

* * *

The young alpha fell asleep curled around Yuuri’s back, and the sweet could feel warm, steady breath tickle his skin with each rise and fall of the boy’s chest.

It took some time before the knot deflated; when it did, Yuuri slipped carefully out of his patron’s arms, gently collected the used condom from him, and tiptoed into the bathroom to wipe himself off and use the toilet. When he came back to the bed, the boy was reaching out, unconsciously recognizing that there was supposed to be something pressed against him… and it wasn’t there. He moaned unhappily in his sleep, arms reaching and fingers clenching. His brow furrowed, his lips set in a deep frown.

Yuuri chuckled and slid back onto the bed, lying on his back, letting Yurio’s arms wrap back around his waist and head slide onto his chest. He was surprised to find that he echoed his patron’s contented sigh as they cuddled back together. Perhaps it really _had_ been too long since he’d let his omega out so thoroughly. Yurio had made it pretty easy to let go. The newly presented alpha had barreled straight through his own walls of inexperience and insecurity, and he’d drawn on his instincts to display dominance that even a seasoned omega like Yuuri could appreciate.

Yuuri had noticed the exact moment when Yurio started to care about the omega’s enjoyment. It had been a blissful moment; always a heady moment of success. It was something that Yuuri had pointedly managed to instill during every presentation rut he’d ever participated in...except one. That is, specifically, the piece of information that an alpha could obtain a thrilling sense of control and satisfaction from caring for and pleasuring an omega. If the alpha didn’t learn it early, they never really seemed to catch on. Before Yuuri learned how to teach this information, it had only taken one presenting alpha’s lack of awareness to send him into a desperate heat. His omega had been so unhappy. Angry with him. Angry with the alpha, unsated. He’d gone stumbling over to the alpha side of Yutopia and fallen against Leo’s door. The American had taken one look at him and told his current patron that they would have to reschedule before ushering her out and pulling Yuuri into him.

Yuuri sighed and stroked Yurio’s blonde hair listlessly, nuzzling against the top of the youth’s head. Thank God for experience… Yuuri still felt guilty for all the omegas likely to suffer from his one failed guidance of a presentation. And of course, the alpha himself: J.J. Poor kid. Hopefully, someone else had been able to get the information though his skull.

Yurio interrupted his mildly negative thoughts by snuggling up under his chin. “Mmmm… how long have I been asleep?” He asked, raising his head up and blinking sleepy, ocean-colored eyes. Yuuri was pleased to see that the gold had faded completely from his blue-green irises.

“Not long… maybe half an hour. How are you feeling?”

Yurio leaned up on one elbow so he could stop craning his neck to look at Yuuri’s face. “Different. Weird…” He frowned, mouth twisting. “And I’ve got a shitty head ache building right here.” He pointed to a spot just above his left temple.

Yuuri reached out and placed a cool hand where the youth pointed, rubbing soothing circles with his practiced fingers.

“Aaaggguhhhhhhhhhhh…” Yurio praised eloquently.

Yuuri chuckled. “Let’s take a shower. I sincerely doubt your rut is over, and it might be nice to clean up and get some food and water before you start up again.”

Yurio blew a childish raspberry with his lips when the sweet’s hand fell from his temple, but he followed Yuuri to the bathroom obediently.

The sweetworker started the water and leaned nonchalantly against the wall waiting for it to heat. Unlike Yuuri, his patron was clearly not quite as proficient at lounging around in the nude. Yurio covered his crotch with his hands and bit his lip. An embarrassed blush was starting to tint his cheeks, and Yuuri didn’t feel any need to sooth it. In fact, the omega took the opportunity to give the youth a solid once-over: eyeing him face down to toes and back up again, lingering over certain key areas.

“L-like what you see?” Yurio’s response would have been cheeky, except for the stutter it was delivered in. Yuuri chuckled and mentally gave the boy credit for trying. Regardless, this was Yuuri’s domain… he wouldn’t have some kid attempting to one up him.

The dark-haired man strolled languidly up to his patron, a vision of confidence and relaxation. He stopped right in front of Yurio and reached up to caress the back of the blonde’s neck.

The soft intake of breathe that flew through Yurio's nose was the last breath the boy managed before Yuuri yanked him down for a kiss. It was short. Too short for Yurio’s taste, if the whine upon their lips parting was any indication.

Yuuri tilted his head and placed his lips against his patron’s ear, whispering “I’m sure I’d like it better if you stopped hiding so I could actually see you.” He caught hold of Yurio’s hands and ripped them back suddenly, simultaneously spinning the youth’s back to him and face to the mirror.

Yuuri smiled internally as the blonde yipped in surprise, pulling at the confines of the sweet’s tight grip. He looked at Yurio in the mirror over the boy’s own shoulder.

“Look at you: a brand new alpha. Damn, that’s impressive.”

He stepped out from behind the youth to show his own reflection in the glass.

“And look at me. Look what you’ve done to me.” Purple bruises decorated Yuuri’s hips and waist, his thighs and wrists. The bond mark bleeding on his throat had stalled, but the teeth marks and oxidizing blood on his skin made for a gruesome image.

Yurio stared at the man whom he had made into a canvas. A low, pleased growl emanated from deep in his chest. It seemed to startle him, and he shook his head to snap out of it. “I feel like I should say I’m sorry, but for some reason I feel really damn proud of all that.”

Caught off guard, Yuuri laughed. He braced himself against his patron’s side and ruined his entire image by snorting completely inelegantly amongst the snickers.

When he came up for air, he wiped a tear from his eyes and gazed up at the youth. “I’m not surprised. You do good work.”

“Does this hurt?” Yurio asked, trailing two fingers over the ragged bite mark.

Yuuri shied away from the touch. “Mmm, it’s all right,” he replied, placing a palm over the tender area. “If it didn’t hurt, I’d be more concerned, because that would mean the bond had gone through. But, unless I exchange the mark or you place all three marks on me, it’s  just a bite.”

Yurio looked concerned, his pale eye brows drawing together as he dropped his extended hand. “I’m sorry. At least for that… that it hurts, I mean. That I hurt you… I’m probably going to do it again, though aren’t I? Do the alphas always hurt you?”

Yuuri cocked his head to the side. Now, this was unusual: a baby alpha concerned with such things? Oddly, the boy wasn’t showing possessive tendencies anymore. Normally even the idea of other dominants sent presenting alphas into a rage. This was strange behavior, especially since he had clearly behaved normally regarding it all earlier. If Yurio had made the connection that other alphas had been in this same situation with this omega before… Well, usually presentations tended to fog up new alphas and omegas with blissful ignorance about such matters… If the boy had figured it out, he ought to be roaring with wrath, golden eyes glaring, desperate to re-stake his claim and punish anyone who had dared touch his omega before he’d had the chance.

But no, Yurio stood there calmly, still looking mildly concerned, waiting for answers to his questions.

“Let’s… get in the shower,” Yuuri suggested before stepping in to the large glass box and letting the water douse his body.

Hands followed the water down his sides to his hips, the fingers stalling there, caressing gently.

Yurio dropped his head down onto the omega’s shoulder. He probably had to bow his back to do it… the kid had quite a bit of height on Yuuri.

“Was I not supposed to mention that? I mean, like is there some custom or something that says you can’t talk about past patrons?” He shook his head, hair now water-logged, as he continued mouthing his words out against Yuuri’s skin. “Of course there must be, I mean, I guess I wouldn’t like you talking about me with anyone who comes in here after me.”

All right. Now it was definitely weird. There is no way a presenting alpha should be able to talk about future alphas being with his omega partner. It should have driven him up the wall. Presenting alphas weren’t supposed to be able to think outside the present… another reason why they called the damn thing a Presentation. They were supposed to be stuck there in that secluded little world.

“It’s not quite like that…” Yuuri replied after a moment, reaching a hand up to work its way through his patron’s knotted hair. “It’s just very unusual for an alpha to ask such questions, so we don’t really even need the confidentiality rules for it. Obviously, I wouldn’t say any names or descriptive traits… but I can answer your questions if you really want me to.”

The boy raised his head from Yuuri’s shoulder and turned the omega around to face him. “I’m curious.”

“And it… doesn’t upset you? Thinking of me being with another alpha? Multiple other alphas?”

Yurio considered this. “Not really… I mean, I know my alpha thinks you’re our omega… but he’s not really in control right now. I am. And I’m kind of more curious about Yuuri than Omega.”

Yuuri stared at his patron. Then he suddenly raised a hand and placed the back of it against Yurio’s forehead, cursing softly about the water screwing up his temperature sense. The boy had to have a fever. This was insane.

Yurio laughed, “I’m not sick…. I’m not acting that weird, am I?” He took Yuuri’s hand from his head and pressed it to his lips.

The youth was being… well, he was being sweet.

“Let’s wash up…” Yuuri dodged, turning to grab a clean wash cloth and coating it with soap.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sudden plot twist go!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those that have asked, the V/Y/Y ending of the story originally finished at Chapter 10, but.... then it didn't! The Otayuri, Victuuri storyline has notes and is partially written. It will start posting after Sweet as Sugar is finished and I take some time to build up a few chapters for a buffer.
> 
> I'm so glad everyone approved of sweetheart!Yuri. I've always felt deep down he's just a softie.
> 
> Thanks so much for all your wonderful kudos and comments! Enjoy this chapter!

When they finished in the shower, Yuri stepped out first and held out a towel for his companion. The sweet appeared to be watching him cautiously, but he accepted the towel with a pleased smile and a murmur of thanks.

Yuri tied another towel around his waist and slipped back into the bedroom. His body felt clean, but his mind was jumbling with messy thoughts. He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled a water bottle from the stock he had seen Yuuri counting earlier.

The dark-haired man hadn’t hidden his surprise well. Apparently, Yuri wasn’t supposed to be comfortable with any of the concepts that he had brought up. The youth pursed his lips and considered the situation. It was true that Alphas tended to be possessive creatures…. Didn’t mean he had to be, though. So what if he didn’t care about the omega’s other partners? It’s not like they even had a real connection; it was just work. Instead of sating the confusion, this thought just added the dull tinge of sadness to it… Alphas were work to the sweet; Yuri was just another job. As much as the young alpha felt they might have some deeper connection (and he did feel it… as if it was spiking deep in his gut… deep in his bones, even,) Yuuri probably was just checking off the boxes for how much rent this would pay. It didn’t upset him that the omega would be with others… just that he was as meaningless as the rest of the patrons. Yuri sipped from his water bottle and rolled the liquid around in his mouth, languidly letting it sit on his tongue until he was ready to swallow.

Before that could happen, Eros stepped out from the bathroom. The raven had actually donned some clothes, and with them his confidence had returned: every inch the cocky, unusual omega sweet that Yuri had first met. A well-worn black t-shirt clung to his torso outlining every square inch of hard muscle under it, and an image of a heavily-detailed silver snake sinuously wrapped around his form. The snake spreading out like scrollwork; it seemed to almost undulate as the sweet walked across the short expanse of space to the bed. It stared at Yuri with golden, disdainful eyes that asked him how on earth he was good enough to be in its presence. Unable to break his staring contest with the snake curling over Yuuri’s shoulder, the youth wasn’t even sure what else clothed the man, if anything.

“Ah, sorry, this outfit is from my casual clothes that I would normally wear home…” Yuuri commented when he noted his patron staring. He stretched up an arm to adjust his glasses and then carded his fingers through his wet hair, causing drops of water to rain down onto his shirt. “I hope it’s all right. I just wanted something that wasn’t going to set off Alpha again right away so we could get some food in you.”

Yuri laughed automatically at the absurdity of that idea. Or, he would have laughed if he didn’t still have water in his mouth to choke on. The provocative sweet was by his side in an instant, rubbing his back and murmuring soothing words as he coughed frantically to remove the liquid from where it pertinently did not belong (in his lungs.)

“Are you all right?” The soft voice was anxious. It almost sounded like he was honestly worried rather than just playing his role, but that was probably just Yuri’s imagination. He coughed again and turned his head to smile blearily at Yuuri’s concerned frown.

Clearing his throat one last time, he was finally able to answer: “You have failed impressively.” The confused look he received as a response invited a follow-up to the statement.

“If your clothing choice was an attempt to avoid riling me up again, then you have failed impressively. You look _real_ now. Like we could be leaving this theater house together. All I can think about now is how much I want to take you home and wrap myself around you, kiss you senseless, cook for you, care for you… I’m ridiculous.” Yuri shook his head ruefully, talking to his knees because saying such things to Yuuri’s face was entirely too difficult. When he raised his head, he astonished to see what that face looked like.

The sweet was _blushing_.

Yuri stared at him. He would have thought that the concept of embarrassment would have been left long dead in the wake of the raven’s eight years’ work in a prominent sugarhouse. He had brought his hand to his mouth at some point while Yuri rambled and had his teeth nipped into his own knuckles.

Yuri smiled sadly. “Would it be that bad if you weren’t just my fantasy?” He took the hand from Yuuri’s mouth and lace their fingers together. “I could take you out… try actually dating. Get to know each other in a normal way.”

No one could say he hadn’t tried. When Victor had talked to him about his presentation, there had been no mention of his feelings. Alpha’s emotions, yes, were discussed heavily. Instincts. Possessiveness. Lust. Need. Rage. Desire. But personal, human, emotions… Victor hadn’t even thought to bring them up, because Yuri wasn’t even supposed to have time to think about anything like that… Alpha should have been in control nearly all the time. And yet here he was, holding the hand of a High Tier Sweet trying to be romantic and all that shit.  Gah….. he was so pathetic! Alphas probably tried to get Yuuri to date them all the time….

“Um…” Yuuri pulled his hand away gently and stood from the bed. The red hue still colored his cheeks. It was beautiful. He turned away to open the small refrigerator then returned with a couple of plastic-wrapped sub sandwiches. The omega held one out to Yuri, not meeting his eyes.

Yuri must have stepped over some boundary _again._ It was amazing how many times one could fuck up in a single night. His headache was still snapping near his left eye, but he ignored it in favor of a more urgent need… to make this all okay again. He internally chastised himself while taking the sandwich and thanking Yuuri. He just needed to stop saying stupid shit and everything would be fine. Dammit… Maybe it really would have been better for Alpha to just keep control for his whole presentation.

The youth set his sandwich on his lap and patted the bed next to him. “Sit next to me again?” The sweet automatically obliged. “I’m sorry…. I don’t really know what makes me say these things.”

“No….” Yuuri replied, finally looking up to meet his patron’s eyes. “It’s just that no one has ever said things like this to me before. All my patrons just want me to take care of them; not the other way around. Sure, I’ve had requests for bonding and mating… Alphas just wanting to take me home as a trophy and keep me in the kitchen and the bedroom. Stereotypical, I know, but it’s true.”

“Mating?!” Yuri asked, surprised. “I’m just asking for one date!” He unwrapped his sandwich and took a bite. Roast beef and mozzarella cheese… not bad.

Yuuri laughed, his smile brilliant in response. He copied his patron and unwrapped his own sub. It looked like turkey. “Requests for purchase and mating go through the house mistress, so that’s Yuko… but I don’t think she’s ever received a request to date one her omegas!”

“Wait… I have to ask her? Why can’t I ask you?” Then the rest of the comment caught up with him. “Purchase?! Like buying you?!”

“Not quite,” Yuuri placated. “It’s contractual… if an alpha wants to claim me as a mate, and I agree to it, the house has to make up the money it would have made during the rest of my contracted time. Or if I just want to stop working, then I have to pay it myself.”

That made a little more sense to Yuri… but… “Even dating? You could still work here if we were dating.”

The sweet’s head tipped to the side, and his face took on an incredulous expression. “Yurio… you’re Alpha… can you even imagine what it would be like for me to go to work and come home covered in another alpha’s scent? You’d accidentally murder me.” He shook his head back and forth. “No, no… Sweetworkers do not date. It’s far too dangerous. If we leave, it’s for a mate. Or because we’ve saved up enough to support ourselves for the rest of our lives, or because we’ve gotten old enough or worked long enough that the house pays our pension.”

Yuri’s left eye throbbed again. The entire idea was ridiculous. It was a job. He could separate it. His inner alpha was silent, so he must be okay with it. “I could handle it.” He said firmly. “My alpha doesn’t seem to have anything to say about it actually. I just… want to know you. Take care of you.” He too shook his head back and forth, negating Yuuri’s original resistance. “I don’t understand but I want… dammit, my head is really starting to hurt!”

The sweet stood and placed cool hands on Yuri’s temples, rubbing gently. “Your alpha… doesn’t have anything to say?” He slid his fingertips through the damp blonde hair. “You’re sweet, but that can’t be true. Alphas never shut up during a presentation. Don’t even try to tell me you don’t have rage bubbling just below the surface. Rage and wrath and lust and dominance. That’s the order of things.” He leaned down and gently kissed the top of his patron’s head. The boy moaned out slightly in a mix of pleasure from the touch and pain from the pick axe that seemed to be attempting to puncture his left eye.

“No… he really is quiet. I can’t hear anything. Hell, it feels like he’s not even there.” Yuri hissed as the pain became sharper, more insistent. “Fucking Christ this hurts!” He fell back on the bed, clutching both hands to his left eye.

There was a rustling of noise and then Yuri was being propped up, a water bottle placed at his lips. He drank a couple of swallows before it was removed.

“Open,” Yuuri said, tapping at his lips. Yuri opened his mouth. Two pills were placed on his tongue and then the bottle was returned. He swallowed the medicine down with a few more gulps of water. His head hurt so much that he didn’t even care what it was. Yuri had his eyes closed tightly shut as he gritted his teeth.

“How else can I help?” The omega’s soothing voice sounded scratchier than it normally would, but it was still a relief to hear. “Let me help you!”

“Just need to lie down… I think.” He could hardly speak. His sweet’s arms were wrapped around him, cheek pressed against the top of his head, cooing quiet noises at him. He really was worried about Yuri… this was no act. Even in the hazy state of agony, the youth could tell. “Talk to me… Hold me… Be with me… please?”

Yuuri maneuvered them down until the blonde’s head was pillowed on his chest, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. And then he started talking.

“I can’t believe you want to take care of me… That you ask me for things instead of telling me or taking them. Alphas don’t do any of that… They expect to be waited on hand and foot… They want all these things that I’ve never been able or willing to give them… so I know I’ll never be able to take a mate. Why is it that you think so differently than the others?”

The question hung in the air, and it seemed important enough to Yuri that he cringed through the pain of talking and answered it. “Victor always said that omegas were priceless… That when you found one you wanted you should do everything you could to make and keep them happy. He’s… He’s a good alpha to learn from. Yakov, too… he taught Victor… We… I… want my mate to actually love me. Not just have their dynamic need mine. So it wouldn’t even matter if you were Alpha, too… Maybe it would be better if you were. I could be Omega and take care of you, and you could live your life like you wanted.”

An ice pick split open Yuri’s skull, and he screamed, feeling as though his eye had just exploded. Horror lanced through him. He was dying. Nothing could hurt this much if he wasn’t dying. The gentle red light in the room felt like a burning heat, and he clawed at his skin. He forced his eyes open and saw Yuuri leaning over him, his eyes terrified.

“Yurio… you just… you…” But the sweet didn’t have any more words to explain what was going on. “I need to go get help!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this pick axe headache is some form of a convoluted cluster headache, which I have been fortunate enough to never experience but I hear it's practically like the end of the world!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's flip things around a bit...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of the main line, Chapter 7 will branch into Bourbon Neat (the Yuri/Otabek + Yuuri/Victor pairings) and Sweet as Sugar will continue into a Yuri/Yuuri/Victor storyline. 
> 
> How do you guys want me to post it? Ending 1 on Tuesdays and ending 2 on Fridays or finish up 1 and then move onto 2? Please comment and let me know!

Yuuri stared at his charge. Yurio’s eyes were lightening. His scent was sweetening. “No, please don’t leave me! What’s… what’s happening,” he moaned, clutching at the glands at his throat. “It hurts… it… is this supposed to happen?”

The smell of smoke abruptly diminished, and a potent spike of green apple took its place, merging with the poppy into a deliciously acidic, fruity, floral smell.

Yuri was scratching at his own skin. “It’s so hot!” He whined. Actually, it was the boy himself that was hot. His skin was burning against Yuuri’s. “It hurts… Ahh… please. It hurts!”

 “It’s going to be okay, Yurio,” Yuuri said, firmly, lying through his teeth. “Just keep calm; we’ll be just fine.” He had never seen this happen before. He had heard of it… studied it when he’d stumbled across it in a book just in case it came up with one of his patrons, but he hadn’t expected to ever actually witness it. It was so rare that there weren’t even odds for it. One in five hundred thousand. One in a million. No one knew. And no one knew why a presenting alpha or omega would suddenly switch to the other dynamic mid-presentation rut or heat. _And Yurio had just done it. The boy was in heat._

What. The. Fuck. Yuuri grabbed his phone out of the night stand and dialed. He smoothed one hand up and down his patron’s back. The boy was shaking, breathing rapidly. He was going to start really feeling it soon, Yuuri knew.

The phone rang twice, three, four times, and then Yuko picked up.

“Yuuri, is everything ok?” Her voice was perturbed.

“No. Are Leo and Yuzuru still here?”

“The alphas on the other side? No… they left just after midnight when no omegas showed up for the night…. Yuuri what’s wrong? What do you need one of the alphas for?”

“Nevermind.” Yuuri snapped. “I’ll handle it. Thanks, Yuko.” He hit the End button.

Fuck.

The boy was clearly crying now, contorting on the bed and ripping at his hair, trying to get some sort of relief. Yuuri knew exactly how he felt. It was after 3AM. The likelihood that there were any alphas outside of the private rooms was unlikely, and even then he couldn’t just give Yurio to some random alpha for his presentation heat. So there was no one. No one but Yuuri.

He groaned and dragged his fingers through his hair. Fine. He could do this. He could make this work. The boy had been the kindest patron he’d ever been with, and now Yuuri knew why. He was an omega…and Omega needed Alpha.

There were two parts to manipulating one’s scent into an alpha mimicry. He drew deep down into himself for all the rage he had ever felt when he had lost his right to skate professionally. His right to live as he pleased. Dammit, even his right to not be chased in the streets by people who wanted to rape him. He was working at a fucking sugarhouse for pity’s sake. Right, because when someone asks what a 18 year-old what he wants to be when he grows up and presents, he says “Oh I can’t wait to be a sweetworker!” Fucking NOT. Part 1: Check.

Then Yuuri looked down at the boy in his bed. He was lying on his stomach. The taut muscles lying close under his skin rippled as he ground his dick against the bed, mewling. His hands were gripping the sheets with enough force to tear through the soft fabric. And his ass was in the air, dripping enough slick to leave heavy wet patches on the bed.

Yuuri had never been one to enjoy the pain of his partners, but the lust curling in him had an edge of sadism to it, enjoying the little cries from the blonde. He forced himself to link the lust to his rage. Part 2…. Check.

He smelled his own scent beginning to change, deepening beyond the sweet rain and brown sugar. Cinnamon and nutmeg forced themselves through. Good. Yes. Just like an alpha’s scent. Yuuri’s confidence grew. He could handle this. He was trained, and he had practiced.

Yurio’s breath rushed out of him and took a long inhale, his body calming at the new scent.

“Yuu-yuuri?” He asked, turning around and showing Yuuri a tear-stained face that looked far younger than his 19 years.

“I’m here, kid. I’ve got you.”  The omega laid himself across his patron’s back, and he pressed his cock against the other’s ass. A needy omega whine peeled itself from Yurio’s mouth.

“Good boy,” Yuuri murmured, kissing the back of Yurio’s neck. “You---“ Yuuri cut himself off from asking permission. Alphas didn’t ask. Alphas took what they wanted and did as they pleased.

“I’m going to take you now.” He forced power and confidence into his voice, keeping hold of the rage that was required to impersonate the other dynamic.

“Please, yes, please, Alpha!”

It took everything Yuuri had not to lose his nerve, to sob at the title. He would never be a true alpha. He didn’t want to be Alpha; in fact, it physically hurt him to be acting so dominantly; to force himself to respond to the words and submissive scent coming from the other omega. The raven took a deep breath and steeled himself. He would never be a true alpha, but maybe he could be enough of one to help Yurio. He rubbed his throat against the younger man’s, marking him with the spiced scent he had artificially created. Yurio keened in pleasure.

Yuuri was fairly sure that his patron hadn’t bottomed before. Especially since he’d expected to present Alpha. And so even though it wasn’t actually necessary, Yuuri eased in a finger, and then finding the hole slightly loose from slicking, another, into Yurio’s ass. The boy pushed his hips back against Yuuri’s hand, desperate cries dripping from his mouth. It was incredibly erotic.

Yuuri gritted his teeth and continued stretching out Yurio, scissoring his fingers before adding another and pumping them in and out. The boy’s cries reached a new level as they became one frenzied moan.

“Now, please, Alpha. Want you. Need you inside me!”  

“That’s it, good Omega,” Yuuri growled out. He raised himself to his knees, pulling out his fingers and replacing them with his swollen cock. He absent-mindedly reached under the mattress and pulled out a condom (one of the just-in-case contraceptives that Yuko replaced daily), ripped it open and rolled it onto himself. Then he leaned forward, covering the blonde with his body. Yurio was curled over, so the motion still worked despite his larger size.

Pressing into the tight, dripping heat, Yuuri had a sense that he was literally diving into an inferno. It was hard to hold onto the rage, and Yuuri smelled his scent wavering. _Shit_. He brought back the images of being trapped in alleys. Running for his life. Begging for humanity. Drowning in humiliation from promising anything to someone who would help him. The cinnamon came back full force. He pushed himself in slowly until he was balls deep in the Russian.

Yurio was panting, gasping out words of pleasure, joy, need, want, and Alpha, Alpha, Alpha!

Yuuri pulled out almost completely and slammed back into the newly-presented omega. Yurio arched his back and buried his face in the bed.

Hatred. Anger. Power. Command. Lust. Dominance. Give it all to him. Spill it all out for him. Yuuri bared his teeth and angled himself in a way that tended to hit the-

Yurio screamed. His body shaking, Yuuri had to dig his fingers into the other’s hips to keep him from flailing off the bed. The youth turned his face and shoulders to look back at the man fucking him, his silver eyes blazing, but before his sight could re-orient, Yuuri snapped his own eyes shut. He knew what they would look like. Silver. Still silver. Still Omega. Yurio didn’t need to see that.

“Don’t look back here,” He snapped, hoping he managed to keep the regret from his voice. “And get your hands behind your back.” Yurio immediately obliged to both commands, and Yuuri took hold of his forearms. He slammed forward, burying himself in the boy to the hilt. “So fucking tight… Yesssss….”

“I need… I need…”

Yuuri knew what he needed and mentally sighed. It wasn’t going to create the emotional link the boy craved, but he could at least ease the physical need for the bond and knot. He crossed the blonde’s arms behind his back and pulled Yurio upwards toward him until his back was flush with Yuuri’s chest, his head lolled back on the sweet’s shoulder. And Yuuri felt the rage inside him approve of the submission, willing him to wrap an arm around the blonde’s chest. He lowered his mouth to Yurio’s throat and slashed his teeth into the scent gland.

The cry from Yurio’s throat was unimaginable, strangled and pained and lust-filled and _perfect_. Blood dripped from Yuuri’s teeth and lips as he lapped at the pseudo-bond mark. He found that one of his hands had moved itself onto his patron’s throat, pressing his head back. Yurio was still forcing breath to his lungs, but it couldn’t have been comfortable. Yuuri eased the pressure, but kept his hand wrapped around the younger man’s throat.

“ _Yours, Alpha…_ ” Yurio whispered roughly.

Yuuri snarled, amazed at the possession the words provoked from him. He dropped a hand to Yurio’s cock and began fisting it at the same rate as his own pumping. The youth began shuddering, moans rushing out of his ragged throat. And then he suddenly stilled, thick fluid spraying onto the bed, his ass clenching around Yuuri’s cock.

Yuuri cursed, throwing the boy forward into his own mess and wrapping his hand around the base of his own cock. He slammed forward, pushing the first two knuckles of his hand into Yurio with his cock, his own orgasm being ripped out of him. Yurio _howled_ , the pain and pleasure sensations of being “knotted” for the first time tearing through his consciousness and sending him into a blissful sedation: commonly known as “the omega’s subspace.”

Yuuri’s heart and lungs were trying to manage a year’s worth of work in a minute. He felt his vision going dark and shook his head to clear it. With his free hand, he grabbed the open water bottle from the night stand and drained it.

Feeling mildly better, he counted his patron’s slowing breaths. After a few minutes, he was certain Yurio was fully asleep rather than just mentally dark, and he carefully slid his hand and spent dick out of the boy, tossing the used condom in the trash. Yurio’s body should be sated at least… It should think he was marked and knotted. Hopefully it would be enough to at least get the new omega through to the morning.

Yuuri slid off the bed and padded to the bathroom. He pissed and washed his hands and finally his face. The mirror showed him that the silver was fading from his eyes. He braced his elbows on the counter and let his face fall into his hands, groaning. This was not an experience he had been expecting to have in his entire lifetime, let alone tonight. He felt _awful_. A twisting, nauseous sensation had taken up residence in his stomach. Every memory of the encounter was tinged with the darkness of his inner omega’s displeasure. _This is not how we are to act. This is not who we are to be. We are Omega. We do not do this. We deserve to be punished for doing this._

A tremor began working its way through Yuuri, starting with his hands, up his arms until his entire body was enduring a tiny earthquake. The emotions swirling within him were indescribable, uncontainable, uncontrollable, trying to burst forth from his body. Tears were welling up in his eyes in direct contrast to the dryness of his mouth. He licked his lips and swallowed, trying to get some moisture back where it belonged. It would be okay. He just needed to calm down. Words bubbled to his lips as he rocked back and forth on his heels and elbows. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” _Deep breath…_ “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay…”

The shaking ceded to his mantra, but he still couldn’t bring himself to lift his head from his hands and face the world again: the world that would somehow know that he had made his omega act like an alpha, and it _hated_ him for it. “I’ll make it up to you,” he murmured to himself. “I promise.” The queasy, torturous feeling inside of him twisted again seeming to reply: _Yeah, we’ll see…_

A low moan came from the bedroom.

Yuuri snapped his head up and froze, his wet eyes widening at himself in the mirror... _No… No, it had to have worked for more than twenty minutes._ Terror filled him. With the rage and lust eradicated, his scent was falling back into its customary brown sugar and rain, now mixed with fear.

He ripped the bathroom door open, and the sight on the bed proved that all of his worries had come to unfortunate fruition. Yurio was definitely still in the full thralls of his heat. On his back, the blonde arched off the bed, hands scratching at the headboard, his cock hard as sin.

Yuuri couldn’t handle it again. It went against his very nature. He backed away from the bed, trying to keep the horror out of his scent. He fumbled with the door handle behind his back, unable to look away from his helpless patron, and when it finally opened, Yuuri turned and tore through it.

He needed help. Someone, anyone! He couldn’t do anymore for Yurio by himself. Racing to the doorway of the dancefloor, he wasn’t surprised to find the party still going strong. It was the weekend, and the omegas probably wouldn’t filter out until near 6 in the morning. Yuuri looked vainly into the chaos for an alpha and willed himself to smell one, but the scents were too convoluted to separate when they were all wrapped around each other like this.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Branch Point!
> 
> The continuation of Sweet as Sugar follows a Yuri/Yuuri/Victor pathway, so if that's not your deal, then check out Bourbon is Neat (Yuri/Otabek and Yuuri/Victor), which will start posting when this version is completed.
> 
> This chapter is a little longer than usual, so enjoy!

No one. There was no one. He would have to take desperate measures. Yuko wouldn’t be at the front desk anymore, but the listings of the patrons in the rooms would be. He couldn’t just let Yurio suffer. Not bothering to slow before he reached the desk, he slammed into it upon arrival and wrenched the drawer open. Yuko’s books lay there innocently, and Yuuri forced down the feeling of guilt for looking into them without permission. This was paramount. The book fell easily open to its ribbon mark, and the desperate omega scanned the list quickly. Some of the alphas listed were regulars joining their usual sweets for an evening. Others were names he didn’t recognize and couldn’t trust. None of them would do. Finally, near the bottom of the list, Yuuri spotted a name. _Victor Nikiforov_ was still in Yutopia. Room 4 with Yasha. _Sorry Yasha…._

He put the book back where it belonged and bolted down the hall. He knocked on the door with a small hope that they hadn’t begun yet, and he wouldn’t have to actually interrupt anything. The wait assured him that he was not so lucky. He tapped his foot impatiently, shifting his weight from hip to hip. Finally, the door opened to reveal Yasha garbed in a black silk robe that hung to mid-thigh. She frowned.

“Yuuri, what’s wrong?”

Yuuri pushed past her. “I need your patron. I’m sorry; it’s an emergency. I have an omega in his presentation heat.”

“ _You have what?”_ Victor breathed out. He was lying on his side in the bed, the sheet hanging low on his hips and outlining his blatantly naked form. Yuuri couldn’t even take the moment to appreciate the sight before he dragged the silver-haired man out onto the floor.

“Hey! Hold on a seco--!”

“NOW Victor!” Yuuri all but screamed. “He needs you now!” His eyes were swirling with terror and need. He could see when Victor’s alpha instincts responded to him. The man nodded and rose to his feet, ignoring his nakedness.

Yuuri grabbed his hand and scurried to the door. A door that another omega was blocking. _A lesser omega._ “You can’t just take my patron. I need to make quota…”

“Kagome, so help me if you don’t get out of the way right now you will end up bloodied on the floor,” Yuuri promised the other sweet under her real name, danger sharp on his tongue.

The woman hesitated. Her eyes narrowed. “I expect compensation.”

“Done, you greedy bitch,” Yuuri scowled, shoving her out of the way and jerking open the door.

The omega sweet pushed open the door to Room 7, and Victor only had a few seconds to vaguely remember that was the room number that Yuri had gone into earlier, before he witnessed the grotesque horror that was his young friend.

The youth was thrashing on the bed; his only coverings what appeared to be self-inflicted scratches and welts. He was tearing at his hair, sobbing, screaming, begging, crying Alpha, Alpha, please Alpha, don’t leave me!

Victor stalled at the door, completely disoriented by the turn of events, but Yuuri didn’t even pause. He dove onto the bed and wrapped himself around the boy. “What are you waiting for?” He hissed at Victor, cuddling Yuri to his chest.

Victor stutter-stepped forward, utterly confused. “Why on earth is Yuri an omega? What the hell happened!?” This was impossible. Just hours earlier Yuri had displayed every symptom of pre-Alpha presentation. The omega on the bed didn’t have a scrap of alpha blood in him.

Yuuri was curled around the youth, blond head tucked under his chin, stroking soothingly down his spine. “Seriously, we don’t have time for this; he’s already so out of it.” Yuri was still crying, tears making a mess of the sweet’s chest. He was pressing his face desperately against Yuuri’s throat, clearly seeking an alpha scent and being unable to find it. The youth scratched his hand across Yuuri’s skin, breaking through in places to leave pin-prick lines of blood.

Despite being completely overwhelmed by the situation, the sights and sounds of the omegas intertwined was whetting the alpha’s appetite. He felt the need to help the little blond, sate his frenzied urges. The clear signs that he was needed by not one, but two omegas was intensely arousing. Their scents were weaving together to form toffee apples on stormy days. Victor’s mouth watered as he inhaled the luscious bouquet and the sight. Smooth skin and thick thighs and hard cocks pressed together.

The idea that he was being turned on by the sight of Yuri, whom he had known for nearly the boy’s entire life, was messing with Victor’s psyche. And it was now the only thing holding the silver-haired man back from the bed. He hesitated, unsure of himself.

“Come to us,’” Yuuri breathed, staring as Victor’s cock gave an unmistakable jerk of interest. “Help us. Claim us. Fill us up; we _need_ you.” Both omegas were watching him, eyes pools of wanton, swirling green and resplendent silver.

With a strained cry, Victor allowed himself onto the bed. He was needed. He was needed as an alpha, and there was no way that he could allow an omega to suffer in his presence, especially not one he cared about as much as Yuri. He forced his mind to accept the fact that his young friend was omega, whether he was expected to be or not, and he laid down behind the boy.

Yuuri let out a deep breath that exuded relief. He gently turned the blond in his arms so that he was facing Victor but kept himself flush against the boy’s skin. Victor reached out and caressed Yuri’s face, and the omega responded positively: rubbing his cheek against the hand, eyes closed. It was enthralling that the youth wanted him. The older Russian slid his fingers into the golden hair, collecting it in a fist and pulling back to reveal Yuri’s throat. He dipped his head to the clean scent gland, and nuzzled it softly, letting his scent out more strongly.

Suddenly, the boy went completely still. And then, to Victor’s complete surprise, Yuri was pushing back against his chest and twisting away toward Yuuri. “No... No….” Yuri cried out, “You’re not my Alpha. He’s my Alpha. Don’t touch me!”

Victor looked over to Yuuri in abject bewilderment. “How and why on earth does he think _you’re_ his Alpha?”

Yuuri ignored him and wrapped himself around the blonde again. Victor could barely make out what he was murmuring. “It’s okay, Yurio, I’m sharing you… You’re still mine, but he can help us. He can make you feel better…. You trust me don’t you?” He raised the boy’s chin with one finger, tipping it back against his own chest, and nuzzling the top of his head. For the first time Victor saw the pure silver of Yuri’s eyes. His heart flew into his throat, and he choked. Silver. Not gold.

Yuri nodded and rubbed his face against the other omega’s collar bone. “Yes, Alpha.”

Victor watched Yuuri attempt and fail to suppress a pained grimace. So he hadn’t done this on purpose...“Go to him, Omega,” Yuuri commanded. The authority in his voice sounded unnatural when set against his silver eyes.

The youth complied immediately, sitting up and reaching for Victor. Some clarity returned to his eyes as his body lifted the haze: a reward for submitting to an alpha. It was then that Yuri finally seemed to recognize who he was.

“Victor? What are you doing here?” His puzzled eyes still flowed and radiated like molten steel.

Not knowing what to say, Victor leaned forward and kissed the boy. Yuri momentarily froze, but then melted into his arms with a low moan.

“Ohhhh….. Yes, please….”

Victor glanced over his friend’s shoulder and saw Yuuri let out a sigh at the respite and collapse against the headboard. His black hair fell away from his throat and Victor was stunned to see a deep, bleeding bond mark set into pale skin. He continued kissing Yuri softly, holding the boy’s face between his hands, while he tried to wrap his mind around everything that happened. If the youth had presented as Omega, why had Yuuri only come to get Victor now, hours after midnight? And who had marked Yuuri? He felt wetness under his fingers and pulled away slightly, ignoring the omega’s mewl that went straight to his cock. Turning Yuri’s face in his hands, he looked down to see another fresh bond mark, this one placed poignantly in his scent gland. It was expertly placed to wrap around and meld with Yuri’s own scent. Cinnamon aroma rose with the green apples he attributed to Yuri himself. The scent had literally been fixed to Yuri like some sort of band-aid.

No scent of cinnamon came from the dark-haired omega across the bed, whose scent was finally relaxing back into the aroma of brown sugar and the faint premonition of rain.  Had another alpha tried and failed to help Yuri before Yuuri had come to get him? None of this made sense.

But there wasn’t time. The whimpering of the omega was getting to him, and he needed to sate Yuri _now_. He let his mouth fall to the bond mark and lapped at the blood, smearing it everywhere, rubbing the scent away and replacing it with his own lemon and honey.

“No! Don’t cover the mark!” Yuuri shouted suddenly, rushing forward, but it was too late.

The young Russian started convulsing in his arms. His eyes rolled back as he clawed at Victor’s chest, moaning pitifully.

“What the hell is going on?!” Victor roared. He clutched his friend tight to his chest and glared over at Yuuri. “Why is he like this? Help me! Fix it!”

“Give him to me! I can’t place it again, but I can probably clear your scent off it!” Yuuri pulled the youth out of Victor’s arms and rubbed his wrists ferociously over the glands that Victor had just scented, muttering angrily about “idiot alphas” and their “complete lack of knowledge about omegas.” Then he leaned down and licked at Yuri’s throat, seeming to cover every inch, before finally rubbing his own neck over and over the brand.

Victor watched, his mouth going dry. The two omegas were covered in blood, both of their marks dripping. Yuuri’s face and arms were stained red, and his tight grip on the other had long swatches of Yuri’s chest and hips dyed crimson as well. Seemingly satisfied with his work on the scent glad, Yuuri grabbed the young man’s face in his hands and kissed him deeply. It was the most erotic thing Victor had seen in his entire lifetime.

Almost instantly, the blonde settled, his eyes resetting. The smell of cinnamon was back in the air, and for some reason it didn’t irk Victor as much as another alpha’s sent normally would. There was something submissive and mellow about it. It aimed to soothe the omega without controlling him. That dominance was what Victor’s honey and lemon was for.

Yuri wrapped his arms around the sweetworker and pulled him down on top of his own chest. His face, too, was now smeared sanguine.

Yuuri pulled back panting. “Oh thank God, he’s all right…” Then he turned his head to look at Victor, his eyes ferocious, possessive. “Don’t fuck it up again. Control your damn instincts, Alpha. It’s not a real bond, it’s just a deep scent mark. It’s keeping my patron from going over the edge, and if you cover it up he’ll get lost in his own psyche. Won’t even know he is anymore.”

Victor nodded. He figured that an omega sweet would know far more about these kinds of thing than himself, so he did the only thing he could. He asked Yuuri what he should do.

“Come over here and press yourself against his back. Don’t fuck with my scent mark. You can do whatever you want to the other side of his neck.” Yuuri rolled onto his side and pulled Yuri with him, baring the blonde’s back for Victor to cover.

Yuri was sucking on the sweet’s throat, his arms knotted tightly around his chest, gently rutting his stiff cock into the other man. “Alpha, please…” he whimpered. Yuuri petted his blonde hair while Victor settled in and wrapped an arm over Yuri and set it on Yuuri’s hip bone, drawing them all together.

Yuri was flooded with slick, the intense hormones and transitions pushing him to the pinnacle of ready. Victor dropped his hand down to stretch the boy out when Yuuri’s voice interrupted him.

“Don’t bother. There’s no time, and I already took care of it anyway.”

The image of that interaction blossomed in Victor’s mind, and his cock stiffened inconceivably even more.  He grabbed hold of himself and rubbed his dick up and down the juicy crack of Yuri’s ass, coating himself thoroughly.

Yuri and Yuuri were so entwined that the dark-haired man’s chin rested on Yuri’s shoulder, right in front of Victor’s face. Unable to control himself, he leaned forward and kissed the blood-stained lips of the sweet as he eased himself into Yuri’s tight, wet body. The moans that the omegas released were music to his ears.

In Russia, Victor had thought that Yuri was becoming a beautiful young man, but the expected alpha presentation had sealed their fate as friends and rinkmates upon the youth’s ascent to adulthood. The unexpected development of an omega presentation wasn’t even something that Victor had thought was possible, but now that it was…

The boy was so fucking tight. It wasn’t surprising, but it was driving him wild. He rutted roughly in, kissing Yuuri deeply. Yuuri grabbed Victor’s hip with one hand and wrapped his the other around both his and Yuri’s cocks, pumping them together in time to Victor’s thrusts. He, too, seemed to be out of control.

Yuri was letting out the patented omega whine, muffled by how his face was pressed into the raven’s shoulder. He pushed back into Victor and forward into Yuuri matching their rhythms as well as he could while maintaining his death grip on the sweet.

Victor could tell when Yuri regained some of his senses, his breath caught in a long gasp, and his nails ripped down Yuuri’s back, criss-crossing with the welts he had left earlier. The sweet moaned his pleasure, and Yuri’s hands came away freshly painted with Victor’s new favorite color.

“Good Omega,” Yuuri purred; his voice said the word with familiarity, and instantly Victor was sure that he had helped out many other omegas before this.

“He feels good inside you, doesn’t he? So big, stretching you out… Aren’t you so filled up?”

Yuri panted his reply, dropping his head back against Victor’s chest. “So… so good… So full…Vit… Vitya!”

“Alpha.” Yuuri corrected, pulling on Yuri’s ear lobe with his teeth.

“But… you’re my Alpha…” Yuri huffed out stubbornly.

Victor took the opportunity to join the conversation with his voice rather than just his pumping dick into what had to be what heaven felt like. “You have two, now. What a lucky Omega.” Supporting himself on his elbow, he gathered Yuri’s golden hair in hand and tugged it backward forcefully, opening his throat and forcing his back to arch into truly submissive position.

Yuuri grinned over his patron’s shoulder, and silver eyes met gold in lust-filled joy and amusement.

Victor hadn’t known he would enjoy sharing an omega… Then again, he was sharing with another omega… sort of… Honestly, Victor had no idea who or what Yuuri was, but he knew he liked it. He liked it a lot.

Taking advantage of the newfound freedom he received from Victor’s hold on Yuri, Yuuri dropped down and attended to the blonde’s nipples. They hardened under the touch of his lips and teeth and tongue. Yuri squirmed, thrusting himself against the sweet’s lean stomach, at which the raven smiled and acquiesced to the silent request. He dropped down farther and took Yuri’s dripping cock into his mouth.

Every jut of Victor’s hips forced the blonde’s cock again into Yuuri’s mouth, and the sight was quickly beating his stamina into submission. He was going to come before Yuri if he didn’t do something about it, and that was entirely unacceptable.

Growling, Victor caught Yuuri’s eye… swallowing as that immediately lead to watching Yuri’s cock stretch out that red-smeared mouth, and he jerked his head in the direction of the end of the bed. Yuuri seemed to understand and peeled himself away from them, sliding down to wait at the foot of the bed.

Yuri let out crestfallen whine before Victor sat up and shifted them down so that he could sit on the end and brace his feet on the floor. There, much more control. “Please, Alpha, no… Need you more!” Yuri panted.

Victor smirked. “Be good, little Omega, just give us one second.” He took hold of Yuri’s ass and spread it wide. He rolled his hips and impaled himself sharply into the omega, angling himself.

Cries of pleasure fell again from Yuri’s lips as he lolled his head back against Victor’s shoulder, eyes tightly shut. Yuuri grinned at Victor from the floor before settling onto his knees and taking his patron’s cock back into his mouth. Victor let himself watch the show unbidden as the sweet’s eyes stared into his own. Large, dark pupils swallowed most of his silver irises with lust and pleasure as he worked his mouth over Yuri’s dick. He pulled off with an audible pop.

“Look at you, taking your Alpha’s big cock so well. I think you deserve a reward,” the sweetworker purred.  All at once he let the entire length into his mouth, his eyes still tight on Victor, and the object of their attentions convulsed and screamed.

Yuuri pulled back and let the thick ropes of fluid spray across his chest, mixing with the red and leaving a gory image for Victor to look upon. The sight was enough. Victor groaned and released himself into Yuri’s ass, the youth moaning happily, and his knot swelled sharply, locking them together. The presenting omega screamed again, and it made Victor feel like he grew even bigger inside the boy than possible. This was Yuri’s first knotting. His omega must have been over the moon. The screaming quieted to whines and those to low moans and murmurs as Victor ground himself in circles against the blonde.                                     

Yuuri rose from his knees and walked to the bathroom, grabbing a towel and wiping himself off haphazardly. Then he returned to the bed and helped Victor gently move with Yuri up to the headboard. The sweet drew the soft, dark red sheet over his patrons and handed a bottle of water to each of them before lying down next to Yurio.

“How are you feeling?” He asked the youth, stroking one hand up and down his side.

The boy leaned forward and nuzzled against Yuuri’s cheek. “Full…” he replied. Victor let out an inadvertent laugh. “But really confused, honestly.”

“You and me both, kid…” Yuuri empathized, weaving their fingers together.

“That makes three of us,” Victor added.

Yurio turned his head to look over his shoulder at the silver-haired alpha. “Speaking of three… How the hell did you get involved in this? Things were pretty hazy there for a while, and I am feeling exceptionally awkward with you buried in my ass… Particularly because I’m enjoying it.”

“You don’t sound particularly awkward…” Victor commented in surprise, “Actually, you sound pretty comfortable with it.”

Yurio huffed and turned back to face Yuuri, wrapping his arms around the other man and pulling him close. “I’ve had a particularly interesting night… and you just bloody got here, so you have no idea. I’m just thankful to be fully conscious for a little while.”

“True, Yuuri did just come to get me in the last hour… You really scared me, Yurotchka. I never expected your eyes to go silver.” Victor petted the youth’s shoulder gently,  determined to show affection and concern but not wanting to come on too strong.

“Somehow, I think I expected it even less,” Yurio replied, wryly. “In fact, I think the only thing I expected less than presenting Omega was ending up with your dick knotted in my ass after presenting Omega… but thank you. I don’t know what would have happened if you and Yuuri weren’t here. I think I would have died. I wanted to… when Yuuri must have left to get you and I was alone in here, it felt like my skin was trying to peel itself off.”  He mumbled the first bit into Yuuri’s neck before raising his head to force out the rest of his words. Yurio wasn’t one who expressed gratitude often.

Yuuri was watching the exchange with an open expression. Various emotions were flitting across his face and seemed to be tangling inside him. Victor thought he recognized amusement, pride, worry, protectiveness, and… lust?

With a wince, the sweet noticed he was still half-hard. Obviously, that was inappropriate at the moment.

“Yuuri,” Yurio murmured, pulling the dark-haired man out of his reverie, “You saved my life… whatever you did when I switched… I remember it like a fever dream and it was the only thing keeping me from passing out into something I don’t think I could have woken up from.” He grabbed hold of the sweet’s waist and pulled him flush against his chest into a tight hug.

“Oh…. You didn’t get to finish,” the youth noted, rutting his hips against what was at least a half hard cock. “Let me help you…”

A sudden whine and sigh spilled from Yuri’s lips, interrupting his intentions and signaling the release of Victor’s knot. Yuri gasped as the older man slipped out of him.

Yuuri handed his patron the towel he had set by the side of the bed. The youth grabbed it and slid off the bed with a murmur of cleaning up, red heat spotted across his cheeks. He scurried to the bathroom holding the towel beneath him.

Victor and Yuuri watched the younger man bolt with mutual amusement until he shut the door firmly behind him, and the sound of the shower emerged.

“Interesting presentation…” Victor noted, grabbing a wet wipe from the night stand and cleaning himself off.

“I’d say so…” Yuuri agreed.

“Did you want some help with that?” Victor asked, gesturing to the sweet’s semi-hard cock.

Yuuri chuckled. “Nah, this is all in a night’s work. I’m fine, I’ve had more than enough excitement, but thanks anyway.” He gestured around them then, explaining: “You can use my room, my mark is a sweetbite that should only last a day or two, so it’ll fade just fine and you can replace it once you can’t smell me anymore. The imprint will have worn off.”

“Ah, so this idiot Alpha can’t completely fuck up the situation again?” Victor stroked a hand down Yuuri’s cheek, and the sweet smiled.

“Heh… Listen, I’m sorry, this isn’t the experience we wanted you to have at Yutopia, but fortunately, a disaster was avoided, and his heat should be sated either today or tomorrow.”

Victor waived off the apology and scooted closer to Yuuri. “I am extremely grateful that you managed to handle whatever the hell Yurotchka went through. If you hadn’t been with him, I don’t know what would have happened. I really am not familiar with attending to omegas during heats.” It was true… Victor spent nearly all of his ruts at sugarhouses and avoided omegas in heat like the plague. He had seen many a friendship go sour after the interference of the dynamics. It was the main reason he stayed away from having his ruts eased by anyone close. Yuri and Victor had just such a close relationship that Victor wouldn’t have wanted to risk; he wasn’t sure how it was going to all work out.

Attempting to distract himself, Victor slid one set of long, nimble fingers through the omega’s dark, silky hair, gently scratching at the scalp.

Yuuri closed his eyes, enjoying the touch. None-the-less, he murmured that he should leave since his job was done… He could be of no more use to his patron, and it would likely just confuse the newly-presented omega to have him there, he said. He told Victor to stay in the room as long as they needed; they wouldn’t be paying any further fees from their stay; Yuuri would see to that.

Victor continued to stroke Yuuri’s hair, ignoring the sweet’s attempt to take his leave. Yurio was safe in formality, and Victor was fairly certain that his urge to keep the beautiful, Japanese sweet with him had nothing to do with the blonde youth.

The alpha pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s forehead and wrapped an arm around the smaller man’s waist.

“I can tell you don’t want to go…” Victor breathed against his ear. “You don’t have to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So why Kagome?  
> One possible explanation of the song "Kagome Kagome" is that the song is about a prostitute.  
> かごめかごめ 籠の中の鳥は Kagome kagome / Kago no naka no tori wa Kagome kagome / The bird in the basket/cage,  
> いついつ出やる　夜明けの晩に Itsu itsu deyaru / Yoake no ban ni When, oh when will it come out/ In the night of dawn  
> 鶴と亀が滑った Tsuru to kame ga subetta. The crane and turtle slipped  
> 後ろの正面だあれ Ushiro no shoumen daare Who is behind you now?
> 
> "The song is about a prostitute: In this theory the lyrics refer to a woman forced into prostitution (the bird in a cage) who has seen so many men that she cannot remember all of them ("who is it who stands behind" refers to the next person in line) and wonders when she will be able to escape (when oh when will it escape)." (Wiki)
> 
> Plus Kags in the anime has dark hair and brown eyes so... she fit the bill.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The attachment is building...

Yuri scrubbed himself furiously in the shower. It wasn’t nearly as fun as the first washing-up he had done with Yuuri earlier. This was just a matter of sanitation.

He felt weird. Disgusting and uncomfortable, but at the same time sated and glowing. It was stupid. This was stupid. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he was an omega, let alone that he had just been fucked by an alpha. The fact that the alpha had been Victor was something he wasn’t going to let cross over in his mind from “background knowledge” to “conscious, analyzed thoughts” for a very long time.

He unlocked the bathroom door and walked out silhouetted by a haze of steam, using a hand towel to rub at his hair.

Discussion ceased abruptly from the two men curled up facing each other on the bed. Yuuri twisted out of Vitya’s grasp to look at Yuri, a small, pleasant smile on his lips. Within seconds, the customer service-like expression changed completely. The sweet’s eyes widened and he drew in a sharp, little breath.

Victor glanced back-and-forth between the two omegas. “What’s wrong?” He asked the sweet.

Yuuri was silent until Victor pulled out what Yuri suddenly decided to dub “Alpha voice.”

“Yuuri,” he said sternly. “What is it?”

The dark-haired man tore his eyes away from Yuri and shook his head several times as if to clear it. “It’s just…I’ve never been attracted to an omega like this before…” Yuuri said slowly, a sheen of silver swirling in his eyes.

Yuri felt a rush of warmth rush up his spine and settle in his abdomen. Pride swirled through him at the sweet’s words. His inner omega squirmed in pleasure. Yuri himself didn’t rationally understand what the Japanese man was to him, but his omega was inherently certain that Yuuri was _his_. That’s pretty much as far as the explanation went, and the newly presented dynamic was pleased as punch about being desired by such a person.

“You have excellent timing, Yurotchka!” Victor exclaimed, beaming.

“Don’t call me that,” Yuri snapped, reminded all too much of how the diminutive name rooted itself in his pre-teen years. He let Victor’s comment roll past him without thinking about it too much. Who knows what the men had gotten up to while he was in the bathroom? Well, Yuuri was obviously still hard, poking up at the sheet, so Yuri assumed not too much had happened.

Victor paused and seemed to determine it was a fair enough request, “All right, what would you like me to call you? I can’t call you Yuri, it’s too formal for us. So, “Yurio,” like Yuuri does?”

“No.” Yuri replied, firmly. That name didn’t feel good coming out of the silver-haired man’s mouth. It felt like melted chocolate when Yuuri said it. From Victor it felt like mocking or something.

“Yura, is fine… Just not Yurotchka... It makes this feel mildly incestuous.” Yuri rubbed the back of his head with a hand, leaning the side of his face into his forearm, in an accidentally ingrained gesture that he knew made him look vulnerable and young. He couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Eh… heh… yeah…. Fair enough,” Victor acknowledged. Then he patted the bed next to him. “Come sit with us. Yuuri has this odd idea that he should leave.”

Yuri froze mid-stride. The idea of the sweet leaving was horrifying to him, and he completely didn’t understand why. Victor called him again, his voice sounding vaguely concerned, and Yuri continued his approach and climbed into the bed between the two other men. Facing the other omega, he wrapped his arms tightly around Yuuri’s shoulders and buried his nose in the sweet’s neck.

“You can’t leave…” He mumbled. “I can’t live without you.” Even to his own ears it sound excessive, exaggeratory, but he didn’t have the best control of himself at the moment and his inner omega was leaking out through the cracks of his demeanor. Yuri noted idly that his inner omega had a flare for the dramatic.

Yuuri chuckled. “Don’t be silly. You know I’m not your Alpha… I’m not even an alpha at all.” He peeled himself out of his patron’s grasp and slid from the bed.  Yuri whimpered. He clenched his fists. For some reason, it felt like his and hands and feet were going numb… pins and needles shot through them as he wiggled his toes in discomfort.

“Now, would you like to stay with Victor, or now that we have some time, I can call one of the alphas in. Leo is very nice,” the sweet suggested. He was gathering his clothes nonchalantly as he spoke, and Yuri was becoming increasingly more uncomfortable: the prickly feeling rising up his arms and legs. The mention of a new alpha quickened the progression and Yuri let a little moan of pain.

Victor asked Yuri if he was all right. Yuri shook his head and reached out for the dark-haired man across the room.

“Tell you what, I’ll have Leo come down to the club, and if he suits you, then we’ll transfer you to the other side. Otherwise, you can stay with Victor.” Yuuri’s movements were methodical and efficient, as though he was trying to get away from something horrible as soon as possible.

Yuri didn’t think he was that horrible… but if Alpha didn’t want him then he must be. Tears started rolling down his cheeks unbidden, but his limbs had become too weak to wipe them away.

“Yura!” Victor called, shaking his shoulder and sounding as if he’d tried the name at least a few times before getting the blonde’s attention. “What’s going on?”

“It hurts… I need…. Alpha… I don’t know….” The pins and needles were throughout most of his body now and as Yuuri placed his hand on the doorknob to leave, the sensation transitioned into burning. He was being burned alive from the inside. If Yuri had been more aware, he would have noticed that he was referring to both Victor and Yuuri as his Alpha… but at this point such constructive thought was impossible.

Yuuri turned back from the door, likely to say good bye, but caught sight of Yuri instead. Victor was wrapped around the boy, rubbing at his arms, crooning softly in worry. The sweet immediately returned to the bed side. Yuri could hear them talking, but it felt like he was drowning, his mouth and lungs full of boiling water and he could think only one thing: _Alpha doesn’t want me… so I am nothing_. His eye sight went dark and he could only make out shapes and blurry images.

“Your mark has basically faded; why does he still need you like this?” Victor’s voice warbled over the roar in Yuri’s head.

“I don’t know!! It’s not as if this kind of thing happens every day. I’ve never even heard of a switch presentation happening in Japan before! The last known one was over 50 years ago in Uganda and the alpha-to-omega died mid-heat! He’s behaving like a newly bonded omega and his alpha is abandoning him before the bond takes complete hold.”

Yuri could see them both getting agitated. It made him hurt even more.

“Look at the marks on your necks, he IS an omega and you ARE leaving.” Victor slid a hand across the mark on the blonde’s throat, inducing a shiver.

Yuuri started petting his patron’s hair, trying to alleviate what the boy was going through without understanding it in the least. Nothing added up. “It’s just a partial bond… it shouldn’t have taken. We’re both omegas. _It shouldn’t have taken; I only marked 1 of the 3 crucial areas._ There’s no reason it should have taken!”

Victor’s response was brusque and angry. His tone was sharp as he pointedly clarified the situation for other two men: “Except that he marked you too… as an alpha… So whatever the fuck you are… you’re bonded in some new way.”

Yuuri’s hand paused in its motions through Yuri’s hair and only silence filled the room for the next few moments. “Shit. I need to go find someone. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

* * *

Yuuri was glad that he was actually dressed this time when he raced out into the hallway; especially, because he almost mowed Yuko down on her way to the front desk.

“Ack! Watch where you’re going!” She cried, catching her balance on the wall and glaring at him. The young woman looked sleepy but no less capable than usual. Then she caught sight of his face and tilted her head in concern. “Hey, are you all right? What was up with that phone call last night?”

“I think I accidentally bonded my patron.” Yuuri blurted out with no preamble.

The sugarhouse keeper stared at her friend and employee. “What do you mean you bonded a patron?” She asked slowly. “You can’t accidentally bond someone… I can clearly see you don’t have a wrist mark, at least, although the one on your throat is pretty impressive.”

Yuuri glanced around to make sure they were alone before hurriedly explaining his, to put it mildly, rather eventful night. He spoke animatedly, using his hands in the broad, jerky gestures that always seemed to cling to him whenever he was anxious. Yuko was always the one he went to if he needed help. The only other option he had was Minako. The woman ran a sugarhouse that focused on ballet, and Yuuri had considered working there before he’d become too bitter with its closeness to figure skating.

“You’re telling me that your Yuri Plisetsky presented as Alpha…” Yuko abridged, “He marked you, switched to Omega, and you marked him under mimicry… and now he can’t stand to be away from you and has firmly determined that you’re his Alpha?”

Yuuri didn’t think her eye brows could climb any higher on her forehead unless they detached from her face. He nodded.

“Well, fuck….” She carded a hand through her brown hair. Her voice sounded uncharacteristically rough from lack of cursing experience. “You need to go back to him… because it sounds like you have a mate now.”

Yuuri growled at the idea. “I do _not_ have a mate. I don’t have any of the attachment to him that he does to me.”

Yuko let out a musical laugh. “Of course you don’t… You’re his Alpha, but you’re not an alpha. Your body doesn’t even make the hormones required to feel that side of it. And the alpha who bonded you no longer exists, so your one mark means nothing.”

Yuuri stilled. Then basically, he was cheating the system. He’d started a bond with someone that was completely undefined and now he desperately wanted to pull out and abandon the whole thing. If this had been a normal bond, then they should have both felt a gentle pull to complete the next bond mark, but if they ignored it for a couple of days it would fade… After the second mark, they would feel even more pressed to continue, but it wasn’t until the third mark was bitten into the skin that blood matched blood at wrist and throat and thigh, and the bonding became the permanent mate bond. After the final marks were placed, most mated pairs required at least a week of constant physical contact to cement the bond, and their inner dynamics would torture them should they try to separate.

Yurio was acting exactly like he was in a shiny new pair bond. It just didn’t make any sense. The worst possible scenario in the creation of the pair bond was for the alpha to receive only two bonds while the omega received all three, and then they were physically forced to separate. While the omega faded from the alpha’s mind in due time, the omega would constantly feel the desperate need to be with his or her Alpha. Most of them went insane or committed suicide. In the opposite situation, an alpha was rendered infertile and impotent, unable to rise to the occasion for anyone other than their Omega, but emotionally they recovered quite well. The procedure was performed quite often on alphas with violent sex offender status, in fact.

All that aside, the fact remained that Yuuri had no idea how to handle the situation. He did not want a mate. He particularly didn’t want an omega mate. This whole night was nightmare after blindside after shit show, and all the sweet wanted to do was go to sleep in his own bed that smelled only like one omega: him. He sighed. Yuko was right… he couldn’t leave Yurio if he was suffering from some weird mutation of a breaking mate bond. They could work it all out after they had some sleep.

Bidding Yuko a pleasant day’s work and promising an attempt to keep control of the wild dysphoria of his patron, Yuuri hurried back down the hall. He slid into Room 7 without knocking and found pretty much what he had expected to see.

Yurio was crying. Heavy, crystalline tears were pouring from his eyes and soaking the sheet on top of Victor’s chest. The alpha was petting him slowly, crooning softly, and clearly trying to be as comforting as possible. The boy turned his head at the sound of the door opening and his eyes lit up when he saw Yuuri.

“You… you came back!” He struggled with the words, his throat and nose thick with the remnants of sorrow.

“Yes,” Yuuri replied simply. He stripped off his clothes as he walked forward, letting them drop to the ground wherever they may. Yurio sat up and held out stretched arms, and the raven acquiesced to the nonverbal request. He slipped under the sheet and into the boy’s embrace, wrapping him up firmly.

A deep-seated feeling of satiety settled on Yuuri, surprising him, and he felt his body comfortably relax. The sweet closed his eyes and cuddled the blonde into him, settling his chin on the bright hair. Peripherally, he noticed when Victor went to turn the light off, but after feeling the man slide back into the bed… there was only calm as he fell asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

JUST KIDDING THERE IS NOTHING HERE!

Due to a upload glitch, a chapter was missed.... But I love the comments, so I couldn't delete this outright. Please proceed to the next chapter.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the misplaced chapter again!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're nearly at the end of this story! Get excited! New Chapter on Friday!

Propped up on an elbow, Victor watched the omegas fall asleep in each other’s arms and wasn’t sure when he had begun unconsciously purring.  Despite the whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and confusion, he oddly felt deeply happy and…. Lucky? Fortuitous? What was the word that meant you were getting something you didn’t really deserve; something that no one really got to have? Something that made you feel needed, wanted, and special? Ah…that’s right: Blessed. The two omegas in the bed with him reinforced his firm belief that some higher power loved him and wanted him to be happy. That right there was some impressive expression of Agape.

Unwittingly, Victor reach out a hand and carefully combed a lock of Yuuri’s hair out of his face and behind his ear. Now completely open for scrutiny, Victor mapped out the peaceful expression: thick, naturally-curling eye lashes, pink lips slightly parted as heavy breaths pushed and pulled themselves from the sweet’s lungs, forehead lined with temporary furrows from recent worry. He was beautiful… 

The silver-haired man let his gaze travel down Yuuri’s chin to where it pressed against Yurotch… Yura. The blonde hair was pulled away from his face by the hand Yuuri had tangled in it. They were perfect complements: Yuuri was the moon silver on a starless night, and Yura was the sun gold on a cloudless day. Each radiant in a different way. Together… Together they were stunningly brilliant. The night had been rough on both of them… and all Victor wanted to do was help and be close to them.

He pulled the sheet up higher on the omegas and spread out a soft blanket he had discovered under the nightstand before snuggling back into the warmth. Carefully trying not to disturb them, he pressed up against Yura’s back and wrapped his arm around the boy’s waist. Victor had never had such close ties to an omega before, and his inner alpha was extremely pleased that Yura had presented to this dynamic. It was very interesting… It brought to mind possibilities that Victor hadn’t thought about with anyone else before.

Youth decorated the blonde like icing on a birthday cake, and Victor knew once it was licked away by age, the dessert beneath would be just as delicious as now. Yuuri was a fantasy… one didn’t find their mates in sweets… But Yura was real… and maybe, just maybe, they could work something out. That is if the whole odd bonding between the two omegas themselves could be sorted.

Victor’s careful placement of himself was for naught… Yuri woke up anyway.

“Vitya?” He turned in Yuuri’s arms and pressed himself against the alpha’s front.  

Victor wrapped himself around the younger man in return. “Yura, how are you feeling?”

“Better. Much better… good, actually. Great, even…” He seemed surprised as his own response.

Victor rubbed his hands up and down the omega’s back in a smooth rhythm. Yura, purring softly in response, wedging his head under Victor’s chin to nose at the man’s throat.

“This is so weird…” He murmured against the skin.

Victor chuckled. “Dynamics are funny things…” He let his hands spread to finger comb the soft hair.

“I’ve never really thought about you like this before… but I really like being next to you right now. God, this is so embarrassing!” Victor could almost feel the burn of a blush against his skin.

“I didn’t consider you in this way only because we were so certain you would present Alpha…”

The youth pulled back slightly and raised his blue-green eyes to meet Victor’s. “You mean you… you would have been interested?”

“Yura, if you have given symptoms of presenting Omega, then I would have likely asked your grandfather to consider me as a potential mate.”

They stared at each other, completely caught off guard by the utter change in the balance of power and the new list of endless possibilities. And of course, all of the potential futures that had just become impossible.

“They’ll never let me back on the ice like this… I’ll never be allowed to compete again,” Yuri realized, blinking slowly. “I’ll be expected to stay with my mate from now on.”

Victor frowned, swallowed, and nodded. “Well, you don’t have to take a mate now, and I’ll watch after you should you decide to take that route. I always have, after all; I just might have to do it a little more closely since you’re going to get a flock of alphas after you.” The compliment sailed over the blonde’s head. “But I think it would be better if you did select someone soon.” Those ocean-colored eyes shimmered with developing tears, and Yura hid his face again. Victor felt for him; he really did, but the boy was being so damn adorable in his despair. It was confusing his inner alpha.

“I have a mate,” the omega muttered. “I have to stay here with him.”

Victor’s frown deepened. He sat up and scooted against the headboard before pulling a docile, ragdoll-like Yuri onto his lap. “Yuuri is not your mate,” he said firmly, gesturing to the sleeping dark-haired man. “You are both omegas. You’re conscious and coherent, so you should understand that now.”

Yura turned and looked placidly at the sweet, a small smile quirking the corners of his lips. “That doesn’t matter. All I know is that I need to be near him, and it hurts when I’m not. I’m not all that upset about it… It being him, you know.” He sighed and shuffled himself off the bed before padding over to the mini-fridge and grabbing a couple of bottled waters. He tossed one to the alpha who was staring at him with wide, confused eyes.

Victor started to say something, but Yura interrupted him with a laugh, just a little one. “Vitya… Believe me, I know it doesn’t make sense. But what is, is. And he is my mate. It doesn’t look like I’m his, though.” He cast his eyes down at the last phrase, a bit of worry wrinkling his brow.

Victor sighed. “I guess that’s a no to our considered bonding, then.” He shrugged, trying to let it roll off him like everything else in his life. Just another minor disappointment. Yura was beautiful and graceful, sharp and bright. The sun reflected brighter off him than it originally did beaming down on your back. Out of the corner of his eye, Victor had watched him grow into a talented and intelligent young man. Someone who could actually challenge him both with words and with skates. He really wouldn’t have minded keeping the younger man be his side. Even something you never knew you wanted hurt you when you realized you couldn’t have it.

“Why am I drawn to you?” Yura asked bluntly. “I have a mate, so why am I still drawn to you, Alpha?” He settled his hands on Victor’s shoulders and then let the fingertips of one hand caress the side of his neck. “Why do I still want to mark you here?”

Victor caught the hand in his own and turned his head to kiss the knuckles. “I don’t know… Your bond with Yuuri, whatever it is, isn’t complete. You each only have one mark.”

“Do you want to bond me now?” All shreds of embarrassment were gone from Yura’s eyes as they burned silver, and he tipped his head, revealing the clean side of his throat in offering. The amount of confidence in the youth’s voice was surprising. It was apparent that he knew what he wanted now.

Victor felt his skin heat up in response to the omega’s submissive body language; he strongly suspected his eyes had gone gold. His inner alpha very much wanted to shred through the skin there: leave bloody teeth-marks deep in the scent gland and stake his claim on the unmarked flesh. Yura still smelled like unbonded omega, despite his assertion otherwise. And Alpha knew that he desperately wanted to change that.

“Yessss…” He hissed out between his teeth, afraid that if he opened his mouth to speak he would sink those teeth into the throat of the omega standing before him. Then he closed his eyes and shook his head roughly. “But we don’t know what it would do to you with that mark on the other side of your neck.” He set the unopened water bottle on the night stand and raised both hands to grip onto Yura’s waist in an attempt to hold himself at arm’s length. Warm flesh and toned muscles greeted his hands like old friends. Victor winced and let out a low groan.

“But I want it…” Omega mewled, stretching his neck out a bit further. “I want you, Alpha.” His hands fluttered on the Victor’s shoulders, scratching across them, tickling the scent glands nearby and trailing down his chest, nicking his nipples on the way down to a hardened stomach.

Victor gritted his teeth and lost his control. He slammed the youth against him, capturing his lips in a harsh kiss. Punishment for Omega for tempting him; for being so tantalizing and lovely that Victor was having trouble holding back Alpha. He nipped at the pink lips, catching the lower one and biting sharply until he tasted a trickle of blood. Yura moaned and licked at Victor’s mouth. He rutted down through the sheet into the other man’s rapidly hardening cock.

“Is your heat rising again?” Victor asked against Yura's mouth between kisses, not willing to pull any farther away. “You don’t feel hot…”

“I don’t know. I don’t know how any of this works… Hell, I’m terrified of what I am: some changling, crossover, who the fuck knows.” Yura gasped out the words, grinding his hips in circles and dragging his lips across Victor’s jaw bone to his throat. He licked greedily at the appetizing scent gland there. “Just… want you. Want to mark you. Want you to mark me. You’ve been by my side of years now, and since apparently I’m an omega, it means that you can stay there, right?”

Victor let out a groan and lolled his head back against the headboard to give Yura more space. Slick was soaking through the sheet. He opened his eyes to see Yuuri lying on his side, silver eyes glittering, a pleased smile playing at his lips.

“He’s not in heat anymore, is he?” Victor choked out.

Yuuri shook his head and shrugged.

“So this is him? Not his omega? He actually wants this… me?”

Yuuri nodded once, firmly.

Need overwhelmed Victor and all notions of caution and reservation fled from his mind in favor of a deluge of desire. “Do it,” Victor said roughly. He slid a hand into Yura’s hair and pushed hisface harder against his throat. “Mark me.”  Yura stilled for a moment, and then Victor felt a sensation he had never experienced before. Sharp teeth sliced through his skin, and the smell of blood turned the air pungent. Growls forced their ways out of both men’s mouths, and Victor ripped his nails down Yura’s back. Energy filled Victor. Power. Need. Desire. Possession.

As soon as Yura’s teeth unlatched from his throat, Victor tilted the omega’s head to the side with one hand on his jaw and snapped his teeth into the unmarked side of his throat. Completion flowed through him. Success. Domination. Utter Joy.

Twin screams pierced the air as the two omegas shook and wailed. Victor felt the presence of the omega in his lap and oddly… the presence of the one sitting next to him. The two really _had_ been bonded. He lapped at the blood dripping at his omega’s throat, simultaneously lifting him up and kicking off the sheet. With no warning, his slid into the tight, over-slicked entrance.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” Yura chanted, having been more than prepared by their previous activities. “More, more, closer, please. Need to be closer.” He raised his left wrist to press against Victor’s mouth, begging: “Please Alpha, please. Need…”

As much as Alpha wanted to open his mouth and sink his teeth into the gift presented to him, Victor pressed his lips firmly closed and kissed it the skin gently instead. While this was a bit extreme of a response, Victor was aware of the draw the bonds could pull on someone who had just received a mark. The desperate urge to have the next. Most people didn’t last long between the second and third mark unless distance was kept between them. And that distance was extremely difficult to maintain. It should settle down in a bit of time, he just needed to bear it for now. He thrust up into his omega, distracting him with precise angles that beat heavily against the youth’s prostate.

Yuuri, still shaking, pressed himself against Victor’s side and pulled at his arm.

“ _I can feel you…”_ He panted out. “But it feels like you’re so so far away… It hurts…”

“Yuuri…” Yura mumbled, bouncing erratically on Victor’s lap. “You… you mark him, too. It’ll work. I know it. Just… just for now. Do it for now so I can feel… complete. _Please_ , Alpha.” On the edge of his perception, Victor noted that Yura’s omega still recognized the sweetworker as his Alpha.

The raven jerked and tightened his hands around Victor’s forearm, warring with himself internally. Then, either making a snap-decision or no longer being able to control himself, he raised his head to the right side of Victor’s throat and clamped his teeth precisely into the Russian’s scent gland.

Alpha let out a roar. Yuuri had bitten harder than Yura, and blood flowed easily down Victor’s chest. But now it was he who felt far away from the omega sweet. He had no idea what was going on, buried to the hilt in one omega with the teeth of another latched onto his neck. All he knew was that it felt _good. Really good._ Grabbing the scruff of Yuuri’s neck his ripped the man’s head back and smashed his teeth into the right side of the sweet’s throat, biting hard. Copper and brown sugar melted on his tongue, and a sensation of true completion and utter _rightness_ coursed through him. Unable to control himself anymore, Alpha impaled himself, once, twice, and a final time into his omega before his knot swelled, and he came harder than he thought was possible.

Yura spasmed and came untouched over Victor’s stomach, and surprisingly, so did Yuuri, coating Victor and Yura’s sides with white ropes.

The two omegas fell boneless onto Victor and he wrapped an arm around each of them, crooning softly and kissing the tops of their heads. Yuuri was crying quietly, completely overwhelmed, his face pressed against Yura’s cheek and Victor’s chest.

“Shh… shh… Good Omegas… Such good, strong Omegas…”

“What… what the fuck?!” Yuuri whimpered. “What the actual fuck?! What the hell are we now?”

Victor tightened his grasp. “Mates. We’re mates.” And sleep overwhelmed him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot movement and our first Yuko POV!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No fun times, but an extra 1,000 words and a bit of an early posting to make up for it!

The two omegas looked at each other silently as Victor’s breathing evened out, and their human pillow rose and fell gently with each exhale.

“Typical Alpha,” Yuuri whispered, amusement and affection tinging his voice despite his watery eyes. “They always fall asleep.”

“You look like you only have one eye because our faces are so close together.” Yuri replied, squinting. He shifted away and winced. “Crap, I’m probably going to be stuck here for a while, but this is freaking gross. Help me out.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes and weaseled his way out of Victor’s grip. He returned from the bathroom with a damp towel and began gently cleaning up both his and Yuri’s messes.

“So... mates…” Yuuri said slowly, rolling the word over his tongue like one would when tasting fine wine. “What exactly does that entail for you and Victor? I realize this isn’t exactly a normal situation, but the two of you have kind of uprooted my life here.” He slid the cool cloth over Victor’s stomach, and the alpha shivered in his sleep.

Yuri covered the area once it was wiped, trying to warm up the skin. “Honestly, I don’t know. I never planned on taking a mate until I finished skating… but hey, looks like I’m finished skating. So perfect timing.” Bitterness flooded onto his tongue with the words. World’s was in less than a month. He’d been looking forward to it. The program Victor and he had put together was top notch, and now it was all for nothing.

“I know how you feel...” Yuuri commented listlessly. He sat back on his heels and rubbed at his temples.

Yuri tried to lighten the mood. “Oh no, you’re not going to get the world’s worst headache and turn Alpha now, are you?

The sweet chuckled. “I think we’re safe on that front, little Omega.”

“I am way taller than you!”

Yuuri ruffled the younger man’s hair and smirked. “No, but really. I don’t get how it worked, but we’re all bonded now. Much further along than we should be with a single mark. I can feel you both intimately in my mind. That shouldn’t be there until at least the wrist mark is placed.

Yuri felt the knot give and breathed a sigh of relief. He shimmied off of Victor and hobbled to the bathroom with all the grace of a new-born giraffe.

A firm grip caught his arm before his trembling legs gave out, and Yuuri steadied him. “Easy does it, Yurio, don’t expect yourself to be quite as coordinated as usual. You have both my mind and Victor’s in you now… we’re different heights, weights, builds, and backgrounds… you’re going to stumble thinking your legs are shorter or longer than they actually are.”

Yuri scowled. “And how long is that going to take to get used to?” And then he realized again that it didn’t matter. That was what would really take some getting used to: this no figure skating thing. Even more so than the omega thing.

Yuuri seemed to recognize the change in the younger man’s demeanor, because he didn’t answer the question, just supported Yuri's unsteady walk to the bathroom.

“There’s been an astonishing amount of changes since we last took a shower together…” Yuri murmured. The sweet propped him up against the wall and turned on the water again. “I guess now we know why I was so weird for an alpha.”

Yuuri pulled his hand out of the glass box with a twisted smile. “You weren’t weird… You were special. You are special, Yurio.” He extended the same hand palm up, and Yuri grabbed it so they could make their way into the shower together for the second time.

“What’s the most you’ve every showered in one day?” Yuri asked off-handedly as Yuuri soaped up his body with a cloth.

“Seven times,” the raven replied immediately. Then he answered the obvious question before it could be asked: “I was on the streets in Bangkok, and my heat hit even though I was on suppressants.” His voice was toneless.

Yuri didn’t reply… he didn’t want to think about what would happen to an unbonded omega going into heat in a city with such poor omega protection laws. He hadn’t meant to bring up something so negative. Despite the lack of expression on the other omega’s face, Yuri could feel pain bleeding through the bond. Such hurt… Yuri didn’t need to ask what happened, he already knew. They had caught him. There had been several. It had been rough. No one came to help. And Yuuri had showered seven times that day once he’d gotten to his friend’s house, unable to remove the horror that was painted into his body beneath his skin like an unwelcome tattoo.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” He asked, carefully.

“No, but thank you.” Yuuri answered, gently pushing on his patron’s shoulder to turn him around so he could wash his back. “I’m sorry, you were probably expecting some silly story, like the time Yuko tried having a foam party here and flooded the dance floor with bubbles. That was four showers…” He chuckled to himself mirthlessly.

Yuri turned back around and pulled the smaller man into his arms. “Well, if you ever want to… I’m here… I’ll always be here.”

Yuuri buried his face in the side of Yuri’s neck decorated with Victor’s bond. He breathed in deeply. “I think I’m starting to understand the upsides of having a mate.”

“Now, we’ll learn the upsides of having two,” the youth added. “Because we both know I’m apparently an enigma and can’t do anything by the book.” He stroked his palms down the sweet’s back.

“I imagine your heat passing so quickly has something to do with that. But you’re right… you don’t do anything according to the rules.” Yuuri’s eyes lit up suddenly with a fire that the Russian youth hadn’t seen before. “And I don’t see why you have to start now!” He pulled back, washed himself off quickly, and turned off the water. Then he turned back to Yuri.

“Listen, you don’t want to stop skating, right?” Yuuri’s voice was almost feverish with excitement, and he clasped his hands together.

“Of course, I don’t… but there’s nothing I can—”

Yuuri interrupted him. “You’re right. There’s nothing you can do alone. But no one knows you’re Omega outside of you, me, Victor, and Yuko.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow. What on earth was Yuuri going on about? Who cared if no one else knew yet? It was only a matter of time. “Anyone who comes within a certain distance will be able to smell it coming off me in waves, especially so close after my presentation.”

“But what if they couldn’t,” Yuuri insisted. “What if they could only smell your mate? What if they assumed the omegian scent on you was from me?” The aroma in the shower heightened suddenly, and Yuri couldn’t even smell his own scent anymore, so strong was the brown sugar and rain.

“But the marks…”

“It’s not unheard of for mates to dual-mark each other in a presentation frenzy. Unusual, but not unheard of.” Yuuri grasped the youth’s wrist. “Let me help you do this. I can teach you enough mimicry to get by. Victor is trusted and well-liked by everyone in the figure skating world. If he says you’re Alpha to my Omega, then we are.”

“I assume I’ll be wearing a lot of scarves…” Came a deeply wry voice from outside the glass shower.

Yuri couldn’t see Victor through the condensation dripping down the door, so he retrieved one of his hands from Yuuri’s grip and pushed it open. The alpha was standing naked with a hand propped on one hip, a bottle of water in his hands, and a smirk on his lips.

“Yuuri…” The silver-haired man said slowly, “You’re brilliant…” He strode forward and kissed the sweet firmly on the lips.

Yuri tensed, expecting the acidic, needling sensation of jealousy, and was surprised to only find warm amusement coursing through him. A side effect of the dual-bonding? Either way he was relieved by the lack of negative emotion.

Victor turned to him and grinned. He stretched out one long arm and curled it around Yuri’s waist, dragging him closer and then wrapping up both younger men in a joint hug. Yuri scowled and muttered something about naked men hugging being weird, until Yuuri chuckled and wrapped his own arms around both of his mates, nuzzling his head against Yuri’s chin.

He seemed the happiest he had been since they had first met. Suspicion reared its shadowed head inside Yuri, and his mouth twisted. Why did the sweet want to help him so much? They’d just met after all. Yeah, they were bonded, and the withdrawal effects would be obnoxious, but they could still part ways. But here was this beautiful, intelligent man who wanted to stay bonded to Yuri and walk by his side and protect him. Not only did Yuuri want to be his mate, he wanted to go through the effort to keep Yuri on the ice. It was baffling. He couldn’t imagine what he would have done were he in the same situation: suddenly ripped away from everything he cared about, living a life he had no interest in, and here comes this kid that the same thing should happen to. It’s the way of the world, right? Yuri wouldn’t have wanted to help him. He would have insisted that such a person be brought down to the same level he had been forced under. No special treatment.

So either Yuuri had ulterior motives or Yuri himself was a terrible, selfish, vindictive person. Ah… yeah, probably that one. Yakov always had said that he was overly invested in his negative outlook. Yuri was highly offended by the idea that he was a pessimistic sadist, as Georgi often called him. He much preferred the term sadistic realist. None-the-less, his attachment to Yuuri seemed to be ingrained already. Well, shit.

“Yura….” Vitya mused in a sing-song voice, “Are you plotting revenge or murder? Your expression is much too dark.” He ruffled the youth’s hair before pressing their foreheads together.

Yuri scowled. With his heat in the past, he was feeling more and more like himself, and he had no intention of being any more malleable under Victor’s thumb than he had before. Mates they certainly were and would stay, and Yuri was happy about that. But there would be hell to pay if Victor thought he should treat Yuri like some innocent little omega. Well, shit…. Like some innocent, little fawn, then. No baby deer were present.

“Yes, yours,” Yuri replied. “That is if you keep petting me like that.” He took a step back from Victor and found himself in the arms of a chuckling Yuuri. The youth considered a moment, before turning to his dark-haired mate and adding, “But you… you can pet me whenever you want.”

This drew a full-fledged laugh from Yuuri’s mouth and a pouty expression from Victor. “I was just going to ask if I could help…” The silver-haired alpha whined.

Yuri ignored his rink mate and squeezed Yuuri around the waist. “Are you sure about this? Even if you keep me on the ice, it just means you’ll have to keep watching from afar.” Just voicing his concerns made Yuri feel better, but he could never have imagined his mate’s response.

Warmth and confidence flooded through the bond, sending a physical shiver through Yuri as a reaction to the perceived change in temperature.

“Yurio… I am overwhelmed by our bond with the need for you to be happy, but additionally, there’s the possibility that Victor will let me on the ice.” Yuuri glanced to the silver-haired man for confirmation, and was graced with Victor’s rapid head bobbing for Yes. “ My Alpha controls my activities, and while most would never allow me near my old profession again, he will let me practice, won’t he…?” The sweet trailed off, losing confidence, and looked questioningly in Victor’s direction. The alpha grinned back widely and nodded somehow even more furiously.

A grateful, little smile lighted on Yuuri’s face. “And maybe…” Then, his voice softened and he bowed head. Embarrassment mixed with eagerness flowed off the omega in waves. “Maybe you both could help me organize an Omega’s league or something…” Yuuri frowned and twitched his fingers against Yuri’s back anxiously, his eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

Victor stepped up to his two mates and drew up the Yuuri’s face with a finger to the chin. “If I can help to make you happy in any conceivable way with the power afforded to me, you can be assured that I will not let an occasion pass by without action.” He pressed his lips gently against Yuuri’s, clearly attempting to convey comfort. When Victor pulled back and quirked his lips into his patented heart-shaped grin, the sweet smiled back while looking up through his long eyelashes.

Yuri hugged Yuuri tightly to his chest, stealing him away from Victor, and rubbed their matching bond marks together. He was nervous about drawing attention to himself by means of Omega humanitarian work while he was trying to hide his own dynamic, especially so soon after his presentation. But within his heart, within his soul, his inner omega was crying out that they were going to do exactly what Victor had promised: anything at all that would make Yuuri happy.

“We will see you back on the ice, little mates,” Victor murmured, wrapping his arms around both of them again. “We just need to get packed up and get going.”

Yuri froze. Leave. Yuuri would need to leave the sugarhouse, and that meant he would have to deal with breaking his contract like he’d mentioned earlier. “Yuuri… your contract…”

The sweet looked at him with a determined face. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it all. I just need to talk to Yuko… ah…. She’s not going to be happy, but she’ll let me go.” He drew away from his two mates. “And I am going with you. I want… no I need to go with you!”

After a brief discussion during which Victor promised he would cover any amount of money breaking the contract could conceivably cost, and Yuuri held up his hands to forestall the alpha saying that he had savings and didn’t need to borrow any funds, Yuri finally got pissed and said he would pay for it all by means of opening his own contract at Yutopia if they didn’t hurry the fuck up. The two older men quickly came to an agreement to split the fees so Yuuri wouldn’t have to empty his bank account, and so Victor could feel he had paid a proper dowry to the sugarhouse. The sweet dressed quickly and went in search of his house mistress, waving off the offer of company from his two mates.

* * *

At the sound of an opening door, Yuko looked away from checking monthly quotas to see Yuuri walk out of Room 7.

“Hey there… How’s it---you have two bond marks on your throat.” What in all literal hell? And if she wasn’t mistaken, it had definitely been two different sets of teeth that had imprinted themselves into his skin. They hadn’t even been treated yet, and blood was still welling on the right side mark.

Yuuri ignored her comment. “Yuko… how much time is left on my contract?”

Yuko frowned. Sweets asking about contract length wasn’t terribly unusual, but Yuu-kun had never asked before… not once. When she had informed him of his contract’s completion sometime back, he had just waved her away and told her to renew it. He would sign it unread, he said, because he trusted her. Regardless, she opened the top drawer of her file cabinet and pulled out Yuuri’s folder.  
Flipping it open, she glanced at the calendar on the wall and compared it to the date on his page. “Yuu-kun, you renewed your 5-year contract 2 years before this past November 17th. Today is March 1st. You have 2 years, 3 months, and 13 days remaining.”

Yuuri grimaced. “And what does that net out to?”

Yuko shut the book and turned to face him fully. She cared deeply about Yuuri. They had been close friends since childhood, and when her rink had lost Yuuri as a sponsor and advertising opportunity, it had gone under. The job offer from his mother had certainly been out of both pity and love, but Yuko knew she was an excellent business woman who ran a tight ship. She did the Katsukis proud running their sugarhouse.

Updates on Yuuri’s where-abouts had been few and far between after his presentation and banishment from competitive skating. It had taken an incredible amount of cajoling, begging, whining, angry shouting, and emotional blackmail to get the omega back to Hasetsu and into the sugarhouse.

Yuko remembered what he had looked like that first day back. 20 pounds underweight. Eyes sunken into his skull surrounded by dark, shadowy rings, one bruised black-and-blue from some unexplained battery. His hands trembled, and he whipped his head around at every sound. His nerves were shot clean through. She didn’t want him out there again. She wanted him close where she could protect him.

“What is this all about?” She asked slowly.

Yuuri sighed. “It’s pretty complicated… but maybe you should just come and see the situation for yourself.” He rubbed with back of his head with a hand and cast his eyes at the floor. “I do need to know the cost of breaking my contract, though.”

Yuko tried to keep her voice soft. “I get that you think you are bonded to that omega kid, but it’s not as though it can possibly be a true bond. What have gotten yourself into now?” Her last rhetorical question wilted the sweet even more. Turning away, she pulled out her calculator and reopened Yuuri’s file.

‘’I could make the fee forebodingly high, you know…” She commented.

“Isn’t it already?” Yuuri’s voice turned dark, and his eyes gained a hooded appearance. Yuko knew he hadn’t been expecting her to attempt a profit on him. And honestly, that wasn’t her aim here.

“You weren’t our Highest Tier when we opened this contract… so I can choose either set of numbers….” She glanced over her shoulder to see Yuuri now glaring back at her, arms crossed over his chest.

“Tell you what…” She continued. “I’ll do both sets and depending on what I think of your plans, I’ll choose one.”

Yuuri growled low in his throat. “Behave, Omega…” Yuko clicked warningly.

The omega scowled. “As per usual, even here… Even at the highest level available to me… I have no power.” His eyes burned. “Name your price, House Mistress, but be assured that after this encounter I am leaving one way or any other.”

Sorrow lanced through Yuko. Relegated to her title, she could only hope that someday he would understand her reasoning. Tapping at the keys, she neatly calculated his quotas, fees, and contingencies for rest of his contracted time. After accounting for inflation, she wrote two numbers down on a slip of paper and held it out to Yuuri.

He snatched it out of her hand and then backed up several steps before looking at the paper. Yuko saw his eyes widen as he read the numbers.

“This is absurd… I couldn’t possibly have made this much money if I were to renew my contract 5 times over!”

Yuko held out the neatly written and meticulously organized sheet of calculations, and Yuuri scowled. He knew how precise she was; he knew no mistakes had been made.

“Fine. Victor bonded me… both of us… And now we have some sort of weird three-way bond, and frankly, it feels fucking amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so light on my feet.” Yuuri rocked back and forth on the balls of said feet, and a smile graced his face despite the roughness of his tone.

Yuko was floored. “Wait, you consented to be bound to an alpha?!” Never in all his time at Yutopia, in all his time as an omega, had Yuuri ever been anything but firmly against having a mate. He had allowed marking during presentation ruts, but he had never liked it, and he had always put up a learned mental barrier to prevent most of the effects.

She scented the air deeply, sliding under the convoluted mess of other alphas and omegas in the area. She worked her way beneath the sweet, clean aroma of brown sugar and rain that defined Yuuri himself…. And there… mingling with poppy that she recognized from Yuri, was the forceful scent of Alpha emboldened in lemon and honey. It was so sharp and deliberate when she first examined it that it was almost offensive, as though it didn't like being rooted out and defined when it was so thoroughly entwined within Yuuri. The scent had folded itself around him protectively but so very gently that it didn't hinder Yuuri’s own scent at all. Amazingly, it was relaxing under her observation, seemingly satisfied that she wasn’t a threat. That meant Yuuri didn’t find her to be dangerous, and he was unwittingly conveying that to his alpha through the bond….

All this she recognized in a few seconds as Yuuri stood before her, hand on his hip, just daring her to make a negative comment.

“He didn’t…” She stopped herself and restarted: “You only accepted the throat mark, right?” It was practically unheard of for the bond to be so strong that the alpha’s scent mark reacted to the omega’s emotions, but Yuuri’s wrists were clean…

Yuuri nodded, and Yuko finally looked at the man in front of her. Not the omega, not the sweet worker, not even her friend Yuu-kun. She really looked at him. Yuuri had fire in his eyes again. His muscles were tight with tension, and his eyes narrowed with stress. But, he looked happy and excited, and Yuko couldn't remember the last time he had looked like that. The Yuuri of Yutopia was a masterful actor and seducer, and beneath that he was a resigned human being with no passion or lust for life. This Yuuri looked like the competitive figure skater: anxious, determined, and alive. What had caused this sudden change? She could taste bitterness on her tongue.

“Why did you agree to this so suddenly? And without speaking to me? I’m not only your house mistress, I’m also your friend, Yuu-kun. If not to follow our contracted guidelines, I thought you would have at least consulted me personally before choosing an alpha.”

Yuuri, with a small amount of guilt laced into his words, hurriedly explained the suddenness in which the bonding had occurred. He added on the major points of his discussion with his mates regarding the plan to hide Yuri’s dynamic so he could keep skating.

“What do you get out of this? It’s not like you can compete again…” Yuko replied.

“Are you kidding? I can get back on the ice! It’s been nearly a decade, but just the opportunity to be on it while Yurio practices and have no one question why I’m there…. Having two powerful alphas as mates can only work in my favor at this point.” Yuuri flailed his arms out widely, trying to convey the amount of emotion this conversation was welling inside him. “I know I’ll lose a lot of freedom, but if I can prevent Yurio from having to come work in this sugarhouse then it’ll be worth it.”

“Was working under me so bad, Yuu-kun?” Yuko turned to looked away, unhappy with this turn of events. She wanted her sweets to be content. If that wasn’t the case then she would have to make serious adjustments within the sugarhouse. Her mind started running in a hundred directions in an attempt to find the problematic areas, but it ceased at Yuuri’s next words.

“No, of course not. This is the best sugarhouse in the world, and you are the best house mistress in the world. I’ve had everything I could have ever wanted here… except anything to do with my old life. But they can give me that…” He clasped in hands together tightly.

The aggression in Yuuri’s voice worried Yuko, and she began to wonder if maybe what drew Yuuri to the pair of Russians wasn’t the men themselves, but the reincarnation of Yuuri’s past life that they represented.

“Do something for me Yuuri…” She pleaded. “Don’t take the thigh mark until you have to. No one will know that it’s not there. Promise me you won’t take it until you have absolutely everything worked out with this whole complicated spider web, and I’ll… I’ll charge you the lower fee.”

“That’s something you will have to discuss with my alpha,” Yuuri replied slowly, pride welling up his voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be perfectly honest, I don't really like this chapter. Maybe when I have more time I'll go back and revise it to my liking....


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Author.... Very Bad Author!

I'm sorry guys, no update today. I've been sick as hell and haven't been able to put down enough of what I want to write. Being sick on vacation is the worst.

But Friday, there will definitely be an update. And there will be gratuitous smut! And we will move forward in the plot as well! Both?? That's just crazy. 

To tide you over... I'll give you this piece of information. Yuri has an exhibitionist kink. ;)

Until Friday!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay wow, that's... yeah. An agreement regarding Yuuri breaking his contract and some fun with Yuri's kinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter didn't go where I expected, so I just let it take me there. A little late so almost double the length as an apology for that and for skipping last week. I now have 6 hours less to post every day, because I have returned home! Thank you so much for all the get well soon wishes! I'm certain they helped me, because I'm feeling much better.
> 
> Hope you enjoy the copious amounts of smut. Tell me what you think!.

Yura and Victor were back in bed. Well, they were on bed anyway. After Yuuri had left to discuss the situation with his house mistress, Yura had turned into a jack rabbit with wings: jumping around in a fit of glee and chattering continuously about how they were going to put their plan into action. The youth was glowing. Well, not literally but Victor was fascinated by the halo of blonde hair that swirled around him with every enigmatic bounce.

“Vitya, can you imagine what it would be like if we could get Yuuri back on the ice? Even just for practice! He would be so happy just being allowed to train again!” His exclamation points were audible. Yura let go of the edge of the bed he was gripping for increased bouncing power and grabbed Victor’s hand.

“We can do it, right?” His eyes were wide as he lost a bit of confidence and turned to Victor for support. “We can make this all work out, right?”

Victor smiled and wrapped the omega’s hand in both of his own. “Yes. It'll all work out. Yuuri’s plan is a good one. There will be kinks to work through, certainly, but at the very least I'll see to it that you stay in competition and he can train again.” It was adorable that the boy was more concerned and excited about his mate returning to skating rather than worried about his own perilous return.

Yura’s mouth quirked slightly, and he covered it with a hand, snickering. “Kinks…” he chuckled with an utter lack of maturity. Well, he couldn’t be that worried if his brain was still noticing stupid double entendres. Speaking of…

“Speaking of… Yura, what are your kinks? As your Alpha, I want to be able to satisfy you entirely.”

Yura silenced immediately, his face turning white and then suddenly bright red as the blood in his body couldn't decide where it should be. He looked down to where his hands were fisting in the sheets. “I… I don’t…” he sputtered.

Victor tugged him higher on the bed, coaxing him onto his lap to where Yura's back pressed firmly against Victor's chest. They had gotten around to putting on shorts, but the friction was still delicious. Victor wrapped his arms around Yura and leaned his head down to lick a gentle perimeter around the youth’s ear. “Tell me what you like. There must be something. Don’t worry; nothing you say could possibly be wrong.”

Yura shuddered. “Vitya… I don’t really have any specific ideas…This is embarrassing…”

Victor brought a hand up to settle against his mate’s throat and tipped his face around for better access. With his lips a butterfly wing’s width away from Yura’s, Victor’s whisper was a command: “Tell me, Omega.” Alpha was curious. Even more curious than Victor normally would have been. The idea that there might be some sort of secret switch that would set off his newly-bonded was extremely exciting to Alpha.

“Fine. I like… being watched…” Yura muttered, pulling his head down and looking away. Victor noted this aligned neatly with Yura's choice of career... “And talking to me in that voice is cheating.”

“Of course, you do, and of course it is. It’s also my right as your Alpha to use this voice,” he replied with a low chuckle. Unbeknownst to the omega, a slow, feral grin spread across Victor’s face, full of sharp teeth and gold-tinted eyes. _Oh what a surprise, he who was so passionate about spell-binding an entire audience during programs happened to also be a sexual exhibitionist. Then again, I suppose I can't really talk, can I?_

“Don’t make fun of me!” Yura snapped, scowling and crossing his arms. “I shouldn’t have told you anyway.” Victor recognized agitation hiding embarrassment when we saw it. Aw, Yura was being shy. Something about that convinced Victor's alpha that it wanted complete control, and it poked at him incessantly until he agreed.

“Ohh, little mate…” Alpha drawled as he tightened his grip around Yura’s waist. “Telling me will bring you more pleasure than you ever thought imaginable.”

Yura froze for a moment, breath held and muscles taut, and then slowly twisted himself around to look at Victor directly. His eyes swirled with silver in an automatic reaction to his mate’s gold. 

“Take off your shorts, and lie back against me,” Victor directed. _This is going to be so much fun._ If Yuuri was here then it would be even more entertaining, but that could wait. “Let your head fall back against my shoulder, and close your eyes.” He knew Yura wouldn’t be able to resist his alpha’s order. It would feel too good to obey and hurt too much to do otherwise. Perhaps it was a bit unfair of Victor to overuse his pheromone-intoned Alpha voice.

Suspicion flooded into Yura’s eyes even as he stripped and moved to assume the requested position, shuffling himself to lie down between Victor’s legs and relax against him. With an audible swallow, he closed his eyes. Victor watched his adam's apple jump and steadied himself on the bed.

He let his fingertips glide down the youth’s sides, tracing the lean muscles. “So, you like people seeing you like this, Yura?” Victor asked. “All spread out and waiting for someone to take you?” His response was a twitch of Yura’s cock.

“I will take that as a profound "Yes".” He let his nails bite into skin just enough to leave little red welts behind. Yura whimpered.

“Wouldn’t it be nice if Yuuri came in right now? He’d take one look at you like this, and his cock would turn rock hard.” The image was actually getting to Victor himself. He really did want Yuuri to come back and see their mate like this. All splayed out and wanton.

Yura let out a little moan, his cock stiffening.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Victor continued sliding his fingertips up and down the youth’s sides, never pressing hard enough or long enough for Yura’s tastes.

“Yes, Alpha, please!” In any other situation, Yura probably would have been rather embarrassed by the whine in his voice.

“Show me how much. Touch yourself and let Yuuri look at you. His eyes are so hungry. He’s stroking his cock while he watches you.”

* * *

Yuuri opened the door to Room 7 and was greeted to an exceedingly erotic sight. Yurio was sitting between Victor’s legs, gripping his own cock and moaning as lewdly as any sweetworker worth their salt. Victor had a hand wrapped around each of Yurio’s thighs, holding them up and apart as if to give the greatest vantage point to whoever walked through the door. Clearly, he’d known it would be Yuuri. Clever Alpha…

Yuko followed Yuuri in and stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide and letting out an audible meeping noise similar to that of a guinea pig. She held up her hands and shut her eyes, started a ream of profuse apologies, and began back-pedaling out of the room.

“No, stay there, both of you,” Victor commanded, freezing the beta woman’s movements. “Watch him. He’s showing off for you.” He stretched Yurio’s thighs a little farther apart. The youth moaned through a lip stretched white between his teeth.

“They can both see you like this. Such a slutty, little omega…” Alpha crooned, gleeful.

Yuuri cocked his head to the side and spent a moment wondering exactly how this situation had come to be. Victor was soaking the room in alphan pheromones, and gold was pushing from the outside of his irises into the whites of his eyes. Oh, the man was definitely in deep... Yuuri made a mental note to tread carefully around his Alpha for the foreseeable future. Yurio was clearing enjoying himself, apparently he got off on this sort of thing. A deep red flush graced the boy’s cheeks as he panted from exertion, embarrassment, or some mix of the two. Yuuri desperately wanted to touch him and at the same time he distinctly wanted to keep watching.

“Open your eyes,” Yuuri called out softly. Yurio obeyed, and their silver-swirled eyes met. Yurio glanced back and forth between Yuko and Yuuri rapidly, as if he couldn’t believe they were doing this is front of Yuuri’s house mistress, and at the same time the situation was just so hot.

“Victor…” Yuuri drawled, slinking toward the bed. “Did you plan to have him like this when I came back?” He kept his head tilted in a submissive position, still wary of Alpha's demeanor.

“The opportunity presented itself,” Victor replied, easy amusement laced into his words. “I do apologize, House Mistress, I'm afraid you were collateral damage.”

Yuko winced and tried to back up again, but her feet seemed glued to the floor. “Stop that…” Her instincts must be telling her to obey Victor. Yuuri smirked. It wasn't every Alpha that could stick a beta to the floor with pheromones alone. Yuko bit her lip, arousal tacitly showing on her face and in her posture. “We… um… we have some things to discuss regarding Yuuri’s contract?”

“Yes, of course,” Victor answered, sliding his hands down to cup Yurio’s ass. “Keep stroking yourself,” he added to youth off-handedly and then continued to Yuko. "I have no interest in haggling with you over the price of one of my Omegas. What are your terms for releasing him to me?”

Yuuri smelled pride and lust directed at him from the silver-haired man. Victor was happy to have Yuuri bonded to him; that much was obvious, and Alpha was ecstatic with the situation. The dominant behavior over even a beta femme showed as much.

“I want to make sure he’ll be safe with you,” Yuko said hurriedly, twisting her hair to one side and fixing her eyes firmly on the floor. This was an unusual negotiation to be sure; Yuuri noted that she was handling it reasonably well,considering... Although he figured her panties were probably drenched from Victor’s voice and the pheromones he was giving off. She would probably run straight to her Alpha, Takeshi, as soon as Victor let her leave the room. Yuuri smirked: Takeshi was in for a treat; even if he probably wouldn't appreciate how Victor bullying her around had led to the result. Eh, it all evened out in the end.

“Safe with me?” Victor’s mouth dropped open into a raucous laugh. “House Mistress, can you not see how safe and happy he feels? We would do anything for him. Wouldn’t we, Yura?” He directed the last to the omega on his lap.

“Yuuri…” Yurio whined. “Please…. Anything…” His cock was wet and sloppy, and slick coated the bed underneath him. At some point, Victor had snaked a hand down and slid fingers into the youth. Yuuri’s mouth watered as he wondered how many. Before he knew it, he had asked the question aloud.

“How many fingers does Alpha have inside you, Yurio?”

A low moan was the only reply.

“Answer him!” Victor snapped.

“Three? He has thr--- FOUR!”

Even Yuko chuckled. Certainly she had watched over enough omegas and done enough research to be pleased by the sight of happy omegas. She seemed to be calming down as Victor directed his attention off of her.

“I’ll prepare a release contract with the standard stipulations. I’m adding in that if he ever wants for anything or is unhappy that he can leave as he pleases.”

“Well, _obviously_ ,” Yurio commented snarkily, shaking his head to focus on the woman. “That doesn’t need to be in a fucking contract.”

“You misunderstand,” Yuko replied, regaining back more of her composure. “I’ll not have you three exchange thigh marks for the next 6 months minimum and until after you’ve figured out your situation.”

Yurio and Victor’s movements stopped, and when Victor nudged him, the younger man slid out of his lap without comment. Rage was now shimmering just beneath Victor’s skin, and it became even more apparent that Alpha was in complete control. The situation had just turned dangerous. Acidic lemon pungency swelled from Victor, filling the air, suffocating those who could translate the emotion and intent within it. And dammit it all, because if Betas could read emotion in scents, Yuko would have fled not only the room but the entire sugarhouse.

“Yuko!” Yuuri hissed, light on his toes and trying to be ready to move. The air may have been heavy and wrought with tension, but it wasn't directed at him. “What the hell are you doing?”

Yuko shuddered; apparently, the pheromones were so strong that even she was getting something from it.

Victor stood from the bed, clad in a pair of shorts and an iron will. His eyes narrowed in distaste as he slowly stalked toward the house mistress. “What did you say, Beta? Because it sounded like you were giving me commands on how to handle the bonding of my Omega. It couldn't possibly have been that, could it?” His voice was smooth as silk gliding over a razor’s edge. “Are you challenging me?”

Yuko’s body shook, but she held her ground, her chin firmly in the air. She swallowed. “Yuu-kun is my friend, Alpha. And regardless what tricks you play on me, and what uncomfortable situations you place me in for this negotiation, I will see to it that he receives proper treatment. Yurio hasn't even been seen by a doctor. What if he reverts to Alpha? Then what will happen to Yuuri?”

“You stupid bitch,” Yurio said from his languid position on the bed. The way he said it was odd, as if he wasn’t delivering an insult but stating a evidence-based fact. “Then Yuuri will just have two Alphas.”

Silence filled the room as everyone processed this information. Victor looked to his younger mate and nodded in agreement, the topic settled, no discussion necessary.

“Yuko, you can’t demand this of him…” Yuuri started, and Victor held up a hand.

“House Mistress,” Victor began coolly, “The time and place of bonding and marks is between my mates and me, and I don't appreciate you making claims on something so personal and intimate.”

Yuuri was impressed. Alphas usually raged about these types of things, and yeah, so Victor’s scent had gone acrid, but his control over it was amazing. He was directing it only at Yuko, and honey still surrounded Yuuri (and he assumed Yurio also) protecting him from anything that might distress his sensitive inner dynamic (thinking he was the cause of Alpha's displeasure, for example.)

Yuko sighed and took a step backward, dropping her eyes again. “Please accept my apologies, I didn’t go about this the correct way. This is still new to me.”

“You’re telling me!” Yurio commented, dragging a sheet over himself.

Victor waved a hand placidly, drawing back his scent. “Yes, yes, I know. You're right to be concerned. I am happy my mate has a friend who cares so much about him.” He beckoned Yuuri to him and then drew the him to the bed, settling him next to Yurio.

The blonde automatically cuddled against Yuuri, wrapping Yuuri's arms around himself. Their skin tones of their entangled limbs were starkly different; the snow white of Yurio from spending his days inside on the ice rink looked lovely against Yuuri's dark tan. He worked at night, after all. The days were his to hike and climb and swim. Yuuri squeezed his mate and relished the sensation. _Mine_. The thought still caught him off guard. Possessiveness wasn't familiar to Yuuri. He looked over at Victor and felt the same intense need. _They're both mine._

Yuko’s next exhale was full of relief as Alpha rescinded control of the situation and settled down, now more comfortable with the circumstances.

“I agree that Yura needs to see a physician, but I don't trust any in Russia to keep their silence, and I don't know any that specialize in omegian presentation.” The alpha tapped his chin as he pondered the situation. “Perhaps you can make a recommendation?”

Yuko looked a bit shell-shocked from the whiplash of Victor’s suddenly changing demeanor, but she commented that she did know a very knowledgeable, confidential doctor for Yurio to visit. “Shall I call and make an appointment with her?” _Ah, Yuko must be talking about Izzy-sensei._ Yuuri and the other omegas had been seeing her for years. She was a bright, personable woman, if a bit too curious.

“Yes yes, this afternoon will do nicely. Tell your physician: it's an emergency.”

“No way; I don’t wanna go see a doctor. I’m fine,” Yurio said, scowling and sitting up. “I’m fine now!” he persisted.

“Behave, this is important!” Yuko cut in.

“Everyone gets a check-up after presenting anyway,” Yuuri added. Then he noticed Victor’s eyes glittering again. _God dammit, Yuko…_

“House Mistress…” Victor laid a hand on the woman’s shoulder. He shut his eyes and shook his head for a moment before looking at her again. “I cannot have you commanding my mates. I realize you don't have a great deal of experience with... this type of relationship, but since the bonds have taken place, I'll need you to stand aside from their discipline.” His grip tightened on her shoulder, and she glanced at it with worry. “You still have authority over Yuuri until we’ve dealt with his contract, but you have no reason to attempt to control Yura.”

Yuko frowned and shifted her shoulder. Victor didn’t let go, but he didn’t seem to be hurting her… Yuuri watched, knowing he should do something but entirely unsure of what. He didn't want to undermine his Alpha, but there was no way in hell that Yuuri could tolerate anyone hurting Yuko.

“Actually, Alpha,” Yuko said respectfully, “Omegas that present within my sugarhouse are under my direct jurisdiction until they leave safely regardless of if they choose to bond the alpha that guides them through their presentation.” A bit of sass still made its way into her words, and she smirked. Apparently, Yuko was holding her own just fine.

Yuuri sighed. Yuko was used to going up against Alphas, but she had no idea what she was getting in to. Victor was an extremely powerful alpha, and she should be recognizing that instead of going back and forth between confident and submissive. It was like a mouse teasing a cat... or perhaps a Siberian tiger.

Victor loomed over the little woman, gold flaring in his eyes again with irritation. “We are bonded. Yet, I have resisted even giving the wrist mark, despite Yura’s request. I don’t think the final mark will make its way onto the table for quite some time now, but I see no need to put a specific temporal requirement on it.”

Yurio let out a sound of protest, but Yuuri contained his own displeasure. He knew it was instinctive to want all of his Alpha’s marks, and he knew it was completely irrational as well. There were definite negative effects of completing the set of marks too quickly.

Victor chuckled at his mates. “Not that I don’t want to do it immediately: I am not going anywhere. Not without you two beside me, anyway. It's just that a modicum of caution is advantageous here considering what’s at stake. Pushing the bonding too quickly would send you both into heat, and it could diminish the success of the marks.”

Yuuri nodded. It was true. It was good to wait in between the marks for numerous reasons. Coming down from the high and being able to make rational decisions again being not the least of them.

“But,” continued Victor to Yuko, “If you undermine me in front of my mates again… well, I'll let you come up with the unfortunate outcome. Let it be simply known that you'll regret the action.” He released her shoulder and turned away, returning to the bed where his mates were perched. He missed as Yuko swallowed the lump in her throat.

She let out a rush of breath. “I’ll contact Yang-sensei and make sure Yurio is seen today. You can pay the fees and look over and sign the contract addendum on your way out. We can work out any other complications then.” She glanced back and forth between each of the men, studying them. Yurio was still clinging to Yuuri, his arms wrapped around the sweet's waist. As Victor sat down, he slung an arm around Yuuri's shoulders. They were both trying to comfort him, and Yuuri could feel it as heady waves.

Victor agreed, and Yuko took her leave. She looked at Yuuri on her way out with sad but hopeful eyes. He smiled back encouragingly.

Yuko needn’t have worried. _I'll be fine... not like I can't take care of myself._   And his mates were good people, of that much he was sure.

As the door shut behind his house mistress, Yuuri turned to his mates. “I’m sorry we spoiled your scene,” he apologized.

“Scene?” Yurio asked, head cocked to the side in confusion.

Victor and Yuuri exchanged a glance of mutual pleasure at Yurio’s naiveté.

“Your fun, then,” Yuuri corrected, moving to sit closer to Victor. “We could start again, if you like...”

“Let’s put that particular experience on hold,” Victor cut in. He nuzzled the top of the Yuuri's head. “I’m afraid the situation may have become a little awkward. Tell me something else you like, Yura.”

 _Ah, so that’s how this had gotten started…_ A smile spread across the Yuuri's face. They must be growing comfortable with the situation if they were willing to play this way... Even if Alpha seemed to be the one mostly in control of Victor at the moment.

A bit of a break was in order. Victor announced he would like his own shower, since the other two had already bathed, and set off to the bathroom. He suggested Yurio think about his options during that time before smiling happily and shutting the door.

Neither Russian mentioned the encounter with Yuko. It was as if they were already firm in their decision from earlier. There was no need to discuss it, Yuuri realized. He was going with them. It didn’t matter how or with what stipulations. Yurio would go to the doctor if that was required. Victor would pay an arm and a leg if that was what Yuko asked.

Yuuri felt safe. It was amazing.

* * *

Yuri wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about what Yuuri had called a “scene,” but it had been rather fun before Yuko ruined it. Maybe he could tell them another thing he fantasized about. What was the worst that could happen?

“Something else?” He paused and thought for a moment. Well, telling Vitya had sort of worked out last time. He thought back to the various "entertainment" he had indulged in when he needed release in the past. Honestly, it had mostly been of women, but at the moment only thoughts of Victor and Yuuri had any enticement. The last thing he had watched had been a woman ending up covered in come... It had been really hot... And suddenly, Yuri realized he was curious what it felt like to be her. Have people focus all of their attention on him together.

“I want you two to…” Yuri said, eyes downcast and twining his hands together in anxiety. He had no idea how to phrase it. Use him? No that wasn't right.  “This is stupid; you don’t have to.”

“Yurio, listen to me,” Yuuri replied, tipping up the Yuri’s chin to look deeply into his eyes. "Do you want me to come here, on your face?” He stroked his thumb over Yuri’s cheek and across his lips. Yuri nodded, curious as to how the sweet had figured it out so quickly. Was he that predictable?

"The bond is kind of suggesting you might like me to take control..." Yuuri clarified. “Not to mention you're stroking your cheeks and staring at my crotch..." A smile was working its way onto his face.

“Ah…”

“And Victor, too?”

Yuri’s stomach dropped out of his body at the thought. “Please, yes!”

Yuuri pulled down the front of his shorts and eased out his already hard cock. Apparently, the idea was a turn-on to him, too. What a relief. Asking had been terrifying, and Yuri hadn't even managed to ask aloud. The sweet leaned in and grazed his lips against Yuri’s ear.

“Well, Yurio… you are our mate. So you get what you want.” Yuuri stroked himself up and down slowly. “Lips on my cock. Nice and slow.”

Yuuri directed him onto his knees on the floor and held himself at the ready. Yuri let his mouth fall open and eased himself forward, settling his hand on Yuuri’s hips. The cock, thick for an omega, stretched his lips as he rolled them around his teeth carefully. Yuuri encouraged him to rock back and forth, letting himself move achingly slowly in and out of the suction.

The bathroom door clicked open and Vitya sauntered back in the room with a towel wrapped around his waist and water still glistening on his skin. He paused at the sight of his two omegas engaged in such an act. “And what magical thing do we have here?”

“Perfect timing,” Yuuri replied. “Come here please, Alpha.” He pushed his hips forward, encouraging Yuri to take him deeper. Yuri coughed, and the sweet let out a low moan.

Yuri didn’t know his limits with this kind of thing. After all, he hadn’t done it before his presentation. His gag reflex kicked in suddenly, and he choked, pulling back and coughing. Yuuri didn’t stop him. He stilled immediately and just stroked the youth’s hair and used his thumbs to wipe away the tears that had spontaneously sprung from his eyes.

Yuuri chuckled softly. “So eager and enthusiastic… I love it. I love seeing you like this.”

“Take your time, Yura. We have our entire lives to learn each other,” Vitya commented. This didn’t stop him from pulling out his own cock and stroking it to an easy firmness. He handed Yuri a bottle of water and encouraged him to drink.

“We’re going to look at you and talk to you while we do this, yes Alpha?” Yuuri said softly, his eyes intense. Yuri took a quick intake of breath. Victor eyed the situation, back and forth between his mates, and then he nodded once in clarity. Perhaps Yuri’s request wasn’t that uncommon if Vitya could guess it so easily… Or was the bond helping him out again? Whatever.

“Our minds are on you and only you right now,” Yuuri said. “You make it so easy to come. You are so fucking hot... Eyes red and lips wet from trying so hard to take me down your throat.”

Vitya let out a little growl.

“Ah… Look at Victor. Alpha is a little envious… Maybe you should try to do the same for him?” Yuuri asked, reaching over and guiding the tip of Vitya’s cock to Yuri’s mouth.

Yuri stared at him. That sounded like a terrible idea. As with most of the greater dynamic, Alpha was huge! There was no way Yuri could take much of it.

“Just do your best now,” Yuuri murmured.

Yuri nodded. He could do this; it didn’t matter how much he managed, Vitya would still love it, right? He opened his mouth and carefully worked his way around the head. He handled another inch or so, but his mouth felt stretched to the brim. And it felt _good._ He wanted more, but there was just no place to put it.

“I can’t wait to see what you look like covered in our Alpha’s and my come. You’re going to be so wrecked. Look at me.”

Yuri pulled off Vitya, panting, and looked up at his raven-haired mate.  “Touch yourself,” Yuuri said. “We want to hear you moan, and we’re not going to touch you, so you’ll need to take care of it.”

“And you cannot come,” Vitya chimed in, groaning then as he watched Yuri take hold of his own cock and begin a slow rhythm.

It was incredibly exciting: just doing what he was told, not having to make any decisions. It felt amazing. But Yuri wasn’t sure how much he could take without coming, and he didn’t want to disobey the command. He tried to stroke himself lightly.

Vitya frowned. “He doesn’t seem terribly interested in that, Yuuri. He's not making any noise at all.” He considered for a moment, a finger to his jaw, and then turned to Yuuri. “Let’s flip him over and see how much of you we can fit in his throat.”

“Wait, I---” Yuri was cut off when Yuuri tugged him to his feet and tipped him off balance. He squealed and was subsequently embarrassed that he could even make such a feminine sound. Fortunately, Vitya caught him and spun him around, lifting him up and settling him on the bed with his head hanging off the edge.

“Oh that is just perfect…” Yuuri growled out. “Be a good little cock-slut, and open your mouth.”

Yuri automatically opened up, confused as to why the derogatory comment was getting him so turned on. But it was. It really, really was. Somehow, he knew if he actually showed any sign of distress the other men would stop immediately and comfort him. This knowledge, although he didn't know where it came from, relaxed him into a puddle.

“Yes, good boy. Fuck, look at him, Victor!” Yuuri reached out and drew the other man to him, silently asking for touch.

Vitya’s eyes narrowed as Alpha chose to speak. “I know. I just want to wreck that perfect hair by drenching it in knot cum.” He leaned down and cupped Yuuri's balls, stroking the base of the sweet's cock with gentle intensity and claiming his mouth in a deep kiss.

Yuri eyed them back and forth. He didn’t think his cock had ever been this hard before. He kept stroking it like Yuuri had told him to, but he was getting close to the edge. He was going to come without either of them actually touching him at all! Especially watching them touch each other like that. Yuri had thought he'd wanted all the attention, but this... This was pretty damn good, too.

“Is is safe to use knot come around him?” Yuuri questioned Vitya lowly against his mouth, dragging a hand down the alpha's chest.

“Perfectly… no rut or heat means definitively not fertile.”

“Victor… I’m not sure that’s true… but we’ll deal with it later. Just don’t this time, please.” He slid his cock into Yuri’s mouth with no preamble, dropping the subject and returning to the task at hand.

“My God, look at how you stretch out his cheeks…” Victor commented, squeezing Yuuri's cock more forcefully. Apparently, he was going to do as Yuuri asked with no complaint. Alpha was amazing… So kind to just acquiesce to his Omega without understanding something... Probably... Man, Yuri really was starting to think like a full-fledged omega. It was strange, but it was arousing.

Yuri moaned around the cock. It went much more easily into his mouth at this angle. And just like with Vitya, he wanted more. He reached out and pulled Yuuri’s hips toward him. The thick cock eased carefully in and out of his mouth before pressing in a little deeper, pushing nearly to Yuri’s gag reflex.

“Think he can take it?” Vitya asked. “Take you down his throat? Let’s find out, yes Yura?”

Yuri nodded as much as he could from his position.

“Take a deep breathe,” The sweet murmured, pulling completely out of Yuri’s mouth to give him a moment. Then he slid back inside, so very carefully, and pressed to the same point. Yuri couldn’t wait anymore. He pushed himself forward, past the point of his throat until his nose was flush against Yuuri’s balls.

“Oh fuuuuuck, Yurio!” Yuuri laced his fingers into blonde hair and squeezed tightly, shuddering, likely in an attempt not to rut into the youth’s mouth.

Yuri felt beautifully stretched out, but it wasn’t long before he was feeling the pressure in his lungs, and he pushed against Yuuri’s hip bones. Immediately, the man pulled out. “Victor… I’m going to…”

“So good; you are so good at that. So beautiful. Our beautiful, perfect Omega,” Victor said, interrupting Yuuri. “Keep jerking your cock. Yes, just like that. Keep your mouth open. Look at your mates. Look at us!” His hand was a blur on his cock.

“Now,” Alpha said, and he groaned loudly, his cock spasming as he shot rope after rope of hot come across Yuri, coating his hair and skin.

Yuuri released with a gasp, probably having been ready as soon as Yuri succeeded in deep-throating him. He added his own come, tapping his cock against Yuri’s cheek to let the last dribbles fall across his face.

 _Oh my fucking God!_ Yuri had known he wanted this. He knew that he wanted all the attention on him. Wanted to be used. What he hadn’t realized was just how much he was going to enjoy it. Waves of pleasure built up again suddenly when the hot fluid hit his face and body. He let out a needy whine.

Vitya dropped to his knees and pulled back Yuri’s come-drenched hair, pressing his lips against the bond mark at the his throat, murmuring praise, encouragement, commands.

Yuuri chimed in on Yuri’s other side. “Yes, come on, you can do it. Come for us. Let us watch you come all over yourself. You’re so sexy.” His voice was rough.

It was too much, and Yuri still wanted more, but it was enough. With a scream, hecame and squeezed his eyes shut to ride out the climax.

Immediately, one hand grabbed his chin, and Vitya’s voice hissed out “Open your eyes. Look at us while you come. You belong to us!”

Yuri opened his eyes as Vitya propped up his head, and the first thing he saw was Yuuri taking his weakening cock into his mouth.

“No, I’m too sensitive!” Yuri tried, but the sweet disregarded him entirely, tonguing at his slit for all the world as if Yuri hadn’t just had an absurdly intense orgasm.

Vitya pushed him up into a sitting position, and gold eyes searched Yuri’s face carefully. “No,” he said, coming to a conclusion. “You can do this. Take it slow at first and ramp it up,” The last he directed at Yuuri, who eased his mouth down fully around Yuri’s cock. _Oh fuck. It's hot and wet and gentle; ahhh so good it almost hurts!_

“I can’t…. It’s too much!"

“Are you questioning your Alpha?” Vitya asked coolly, a smirk betraying his true emotions. He reached a hand down and stroked Yuuri's dark hair.

“No, I just…” Yuri whimpered and resigned himself to the hands and mouths of his mates. It was time to surrender all control. Wasn’t that what he wanted, anyway?

“Good boy,” Vitya whispered. “You look so good like this, Yura… Covered in all of our come… But I need to see you come again. I need to see how much you enjoyed this.” He wrapped his arms around his younger mate, careful not to disturb too much of the filthy artwork painted on the body, and held him tightly in a sitting position.

Yuuri seemed to take this as a cue to speed up his ministrations. His mouth tightened around Yuri, and he swallowed the cock whole with seeming ease. His throat contracted rhythmically, and Yuri let out another scream. He was too good at this. Yuri knew Omega Sweet training was amazing, but this… this…. _God dammit!_

Yuuri pulled off with a pop before leaning back in and sucked firmly on the head, tongue dancing. So close…. Yuri was already so close again.  “There, there… right there, please!”

Yuuri kept himself right there and slid two fingers into Yuri’s dripping ass, curling them intensely against the sweet spot. The added sensation sent Yuri off like a rocket, but just before he came the raven pulled off his cock so that the come added itself to the mess, flying so far as to hit Yuri on his own face.

Gasping, the youth saw stars as his mates eased him comfortably onto the bed.

“I’ll get the camera…” Yuri heard Yuuri mutter. He was too exhausted to care. The clicking noise of the device was audible under his panting breaths for a bit of time that Yuri couldn’t fathom; he was so fucked out.

“Sleep, little mate. We will take care of all this…” Vitya’s voice said just within Yuri’s recognition.

“You did so well…” Yuuri added. “Such a good Omega.”

Yuri’s inner omega purred in delight at the praise and caring from his mates.

The last thing he heard was languid conversation between them.

"And you are a good omega, too, Yuuri. That must have been difficult for you to be so dominant with him., Victor praised.

The sweet thanked Victor in quiet words, and Yuri figured he had hugged the older man. There were a few words about enjoying pleasing Yuri, and then quiet kissing noises filled the youth's mind like a pleasantly bubbling brook. Despite the sticky residue drying uncomfortably to his skin, he fell into an easy sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reconnecting Victor and Yuuri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone, thank you so much for your comments and constructive criticism! I realized my voice was changing and went back to make a few edits to tip the fic to go more smoothly in the direction I wanted. I did want readers to feel like Victor and Yuuri weren't sharing a strong enough connection, because this chapter really talks about that and further develops their relationship, it also explains a bit about what happened in the last chapter.

“Well,” Victor said lightly.  “That was fun.”

Yuuri puffed out a breathy laugh. “I didn’t really expect myself to be able to do that without alpha mimicry…”

“Mmm… maybe it has something to do with our bond?”

Yuuri considered the idea as he stole the towel from Victor’s waist and began to carefully wipe off the sleeping youth. Then he covered him with the sheet and blanket before gesturing for Victor to follow him. He snatched some clothes out of his dresser for the pair of them and headed into the bathroom.

Once the door closed behind them, Yuuri said: “I guess Yurio still sees me as Alpha, and I’m sort of responding accordingly. I didn’t really expect him to pass out from that, though…”

“He has been through a lot recently…” Victor took the offered clothes and pulled the omega to him and into a hug.

“Yeah, I guess.” Yuuri looked off into the distance over Victor’s shoulder, thinking silently, until the silver-haired man gave him a little squeeze and pulled back with a questioning look. Yuuri was all wrapped up in his thoughts, and it seemed like Victor felt the need to get in there and help him untangle them.

“Sorry, it’s just that this is still ridiculously new,” the sweet explained. “I can’t believe any of that just happened. You talking down Yuko and her standing up to you; us working Yurio over like that…The three of us suddenly bonded and leaving _today_ … shit. Where am I right now?”

Victor smiled a little sadly. “Yuuri, you’re right, all this is moving fast. And it's just going to start going faster: we need to fly back to Russia after Yura’s appointment; after all, the flight is at 6. Ah, and I must book you a seat as soon as your house mistress lets us know the time.”

Yuuri nodded. Right, the flight ticket… he needed one of those, because he was literally packing all of his worldly possessions and leaving the country with people who he met yesterday and would be tied to for the rest of his life. Ok, Yuuri might be freaking out a little. He pulled away from Victor and dragged on the t-shirt and pair of jeans.

Yuuri knew that Yurio was attached to him; it could be from the odd bond between them, Yuuri’s position in guiding the youth’s presentation, or something else entirely, but somehow Yuuri felt confident about it. The side of himself that Yurio had shown while he was presenting as Alpha had been everything Yuuri had thought he would never find. The magical possibility of a mate that couldn’t possibly exist, but it had seemed like Yuuri had finally found someone suited for him. It had been surprising and amazing, and it had opened up a whole new world for the sweet.

Then, Yurio had switched dynamics, and bitterness had flooded into Yuuri’s heart at the loss. In came Victor, who apparently was the root of Yuri’s atypical and incredible nature, and suddenly the opportunity was back. Maybe, if Yuuri managed to trust the silver-haired alpha, then it could work out. It was a roller coaster… one of those new ones in which you were hanging the whole time so you didn’t even have the security of your feet on a hard surface.

Perhaps, ever since this began, he’d been worried that Victor didn’t really want him, that he was just collateral that came along with Victor’s decision to bond Yurio. Yuuri’s lack of experience in normal relationships had worked its way into a ball of nerves knotted firmly in his chest. He knew he was attractive and skilled, but his ability to please an alpha was limited to the superficial acts of seduction and sex. He was a sweetworker, and he hadn’t dated or been in a relationship since his presentation. He had no idea how to be with a mate as an omega, let alone how to be in this odd three-way bond that they had developed.

Yuuri shook his head and sighed. A hand cupping his cheek pulled him out of his thoughts again, and Yuuri unconsciously nuzzled into the touch. It felt _so good_ to be touched in normal, affectionate ways by an alpha. Victor had also donned clothes, although they were a bit too small on his larger frame, and the lounge pants hung a couple of inches above his ankle.

“Yuuri, I know this is rather wild, and I don’t know if this will help, but I want you to know that I have never been happier in my life than I am right now.”

The sweet’s attention snapped to Victor’s face. Blue eyes were full of kindness, caring, and pure unadulterated joy. Yuuri searched them for a hint of dismay, disapproval, or displeasure, but he found nothing of the sort. The alpha really was happy. Yuuri felt the tightness in his chest ease slightly. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as the ball began to unravel, and his tight grip on himself threatened to release.

“The truth is,” the alpha continued, “I didn't know if I would ever take a mate, and if I did, I certainly would not have wanted to go about the bonding this way.” His other hand migrated up to Yuuri’s hair and began sliding through the locks gently, admiringly. “I have no problem with having two omegas… honestly, it makes me feel a bit smug. The idea that I could have these two amazing omegas, no: these two amazing _people_ … I guess I feel like I don’t deserve you.”

Yuuri stared at the older man. Victor thought he didn’t deserve Yuuri? A sweetworker of 8 years with no other useful skills and no qualifications as a mate? The notion was preposterous.

Victor sighed and pulled one hand across his face, skewing it grotesquely and humorously. “I can’t seem to express this in the manner I want or in a way that I think will truly get through to you, so let me please just try this.”

He placed a palm on each of Yuuri’s cheeks and leaned down to kiss him. It was soft and chaste, the barest brush of lips on lips. “You are precious to me,” Victor murmured. He licked his own lips and then grazed them against the omega’s again, letting them slide back and forth smoothly, carefully.

Yuuri twisted his hands in Victor’s borrowed blue shirt. He needed more: needed to be closer to the man. Victor stroked Yuuri’s cheeks with his thumbs but gave no indication that was going to move faster.

Victor parted his lips and dropped tender kisses on each corner of Yuuri’s mouth before giving terribly light, precise licks across his pouting lips. He made no move to delve deeper even when the sweet opened his mouth and pulled at Victor encouragingly. It was excruciating. _What is this torture for? Why is Victor moving so slowly?_

Yuuri rose on to his tip toes to try to get Victor to increase the kiss, but the man pulled back just enough to keep the pressure where it was. Yuuri mewled.

“We haven’t had the opportunity to move slowly,” Victor murmured, eyes darting back and forth between each of Yuuri’s. “Haven’t had the time for me to show you how I feel about you with all this craziness and guiding Yura through his presentation.” He pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s forehead and then dropped his own head down to meet the same spot while wrapping his arms around the sweet’s back.

“Victor—” Yuuri started, wanting to tell him that none of that was the alpha’s fault. That the situation had presented itself, and they’d all just done the best they could, but Victor shushed him.

“Just listen to me for a moment, please,” came the antsy request.

Yuuri quieted and waited.

Victor stepped back and tugged Yuuri over to sit on the small loveseat in the corner of the room.

“I am sorry, Yuuri…”

Yuuri swallowed his protests and let himself be wrapped up in the older man’s arms again.

Victor continued. “I let my Alpha have entirely too much control for the last few hours. I have not been seeing to your needs as a human because of it… But it’s important for you to know you and Yura are not just omegas to me.” He stroked finger tips down Yuuri’s back. “I’m here now, and I want to give you everything that your house mistress required. If you want it in a contract, I will be happy to sign, and you should know that it is me in my entirety, not just Alpha that is willing to do anything for you.”

Yuuri felt choked and couldn’t manage any audible words, but his mind was flying in every possible direction. Victor lost control of his alpha? No… he just hadn’t chosen to reign it in.

“I want…” the silver-haired man went on in in a pondering tone, “No. I need to get to know you better and develop a relationship with you as real mates. Despite what others may have told you, you have a say in everything with me.” He hugged Yuuri again. “Okay, yes… tell me what you think.”

“What do you mean I have a say? You are my Alpha.” Yuuri replied incredulously. “I know I can ask for stuff, but I’m supposed to obey your every word!”

“No!” Victor said sharply. “No, I’m not like that, I don't want that!” He massaged the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Yuuri, I’m not trying to take away your freedom by bonding you. I want us to meld together, all three of us, and for that to happen, I need you to be open and honest with me! So please tell me what you want from me.” A tinge of exasperation entered his voice.

Yuuri considered carefully. What _did_ he want? Love? Safety? Security? Well, yeah, but… freedom… The very thing that Victor said he wanted Yuuri to keep… That was it. He wanted to be able to rise above his dynamic, do as he pleased despite being Omega and not have society attempt to destroy him for it.

Victor was waiting patiently.

“I don’t want to lose myself in you and Yurio. I’ve always been terrified that I would be locked down under the steel netting of my mate. I don’t want to have to behave by omegian standards… I just want to be me…” The conviction in his voice was strong, and as he said it Yuuri understood that this really was the root of his desires. More than anything, he just wanted to live like a normal person: to be able to walk the streets safely, to experience heats with someone he loved, to not worry if he was acting appropriately for his dynamic.

“Oh Yuuri,” Victor said, grabbing the omega’s hand and kissing it. “I would love nothing more than for you to be true to yourself! That's something you never need to worry about me taking from you.”

The pair talked and cuddled; shared gentle kisses and light conversation just trying to learn each other, until Yuuri’s stomach grumbled.

“Does my mate require food?” Victor asked chuckling.

Yuuri tried not to beam. Now every time Victor referred to him with that title, he felt like a sparkling light was shining inside him desperate to get out. He could feel himself falling in love with this man. Omega loved Alpha, that much was uncontrollable, but Yuuri felt good around Victor. Cared for and safe.

“Yes, feed me.” He pressed his lips against the curve of Victor’s jaw and pawed at his chest. “And we need to go back to my place so I can pack enough to manage with.”

Victor stroked his mate’s dark hair out of his eyes with one hand, the other tight around his waist. “Of course, anything you like.”

After leaving a note for Yurio and gathering up a few necessities, the pair stopped by Yuko to sign the contract. As Yuuri perused it, he was surprised to find that the language was essentially all boilerplate; no other stipulations had been made except for a regular quarterly check-in for the next two years, but that wasn’t unusual either. No mentions of the marks was made.

“Yuko…”

The woman grasped his hand around the pen he was holding. “I trust you, Yuu-kun. I trust that you will come to me if you need help, and I trust that you will take care of yourself this time around.” She looked closely into his eyes.

“If you tell me that this is what’s right for you…” She glanced up at Victor and then back to her friend and employee, “If he is what’s right for you, then I won’t stop you. I will do everything I can to help and support you.”

Yuuri felt a swell of warmth inside him. “I love you, Yuko…” slipped from his mouth before he could stop it. His soon-to-be ex-house mistress’s lips spread into a wide smile. “And he is, I mean, they are. I want this.” He reached out and pulled her into a hug.  “I really, really want this.”  
  
Leaning against the wall, ankles crossed and body relaxed, Victor was grinning broadly and nodding in agreement. At Yuuri’s beckoning, he came forward to sign the paper as well. His signature was a looping flourish that matched his personality. Upon finishing, he pulled out a checkbook and signed over the listed sum to Yutopia Sugarhouse with the memo: “Katsuki Yuuri, release of contract.” He ripped out the slip of paper and handed it to Yuko.

“It’s been a pleasure, House Mistress,” he said formally.

Yuuri looked on trying to keep from bouncing on the balls of his feet during the ceremonial exchange.

“Thank you, Alpha,” Yuko replied, taking the check and leaning over to sign the contract herself. “It truly has been an experience.”

Alpha and Beta looked at each other for a moment, smiles quirking at the corner of their lips as they shook hands.

Yuko sent the papers through a small copier and then handed the originals back to Victor in a manila envelope. With no preamble, Victor handed them directly to Yuuri.

The omega blinked and then stared at the folder in his hands. He wasn’t a sweetworker anymore. He was under the care of an alpha that let him be the one to keep track of documents worth thousands and thousands of dollars. He was allowed to keep his own papers. In fact, it seemed like Victor hadn’t even considered the idea of keeping them away from Yuuri. This Alpha... Yuuri's Alpha already trusted him so much.

Yuko stared with the ex-sweet at the folder, and then she dropped into a low bow, her hair falling around her face. “Please take care of my friend. Please help him get where he wants to be in a life in a way that I never could.”

Victor patted her shoulder lightly. “I will, and thank you for caring for him until I could find him.”

Yuuri watched the interaction with a happy heart, and he made a mental note to pay back Victor for half of the fee; it just didn’t seem like the right time to bring it up.

* * *

 

Dr. Isabella Yang had specialized in dynamics after medical school, because her own dynamic had bitterly disappointed her. Betas could not make the extreme bonds with Alphas and Omegas that those dynamics could, and thus is was rare to find one of them interested in cementing the lesser bond with a beta. Most betas were perfectly happy with their situation, living without the underlying demands of their inner dynamics. But Izzy had not been happy. She had been envious; especially, when her sister and brother had presented Alpha. She was forever dismayed by the fact that she couldn't experience any of the intensities of the dynamics. Her siblings had told her that she was better off Beta; that she wasn't missing out on anything; that she was lucky to not have to deal with the ruts and the hormones... Until Roxana and Gabriel had found mates, and the strength of the bonds had lead Izzy to her field in an effort to curb her desperate jealousy.

Since then, her research had lead her into many pitfalls and dead-ends in her attempts to find out the causes and correlations of the dynamics, bonding, and mating.  She tsked as she crossed out another line in her notes. New research had completely reduced the likelihood of that theory having any merit.

The phone rang, and she picked it up automatically; her receptionist didn't come in until the day began at 8 o'clock. “Dr. Isabella Yang’s office. Dynamics specialist.”

“Yang-sensei? This is Nishigori Yuko from Yutopia Sugarhouse.”

Izzy set her pen on the desk. “Yuko-san, what can I do for you?” The woman had contacted her many times in the past, mostly regarding medical problems with or routine care for Omegas or Alphas in her House, but also about her own difficulties with her Alpha mate. They had become friends, of a sort. They had lunch once-in-awhile; Yuko let Izzy interview her House when she came up with new theories; and Izzy saw Yuko's sweetworkers for a reduced fee.

“Do you have any openings today? There’s someone I really need you to see as soon as possible.” Yuko’s voice sounded stressed and a bit nervous.

“Is everything all right? Who is this person?”

“Frankly,” Yuko replied, “I’m not sure. But no one is in immediate danger. A Russian boy presented at my House last night under Katsuki Yuuri’s guidance and there were some… complications. How soon can he come in?”

Izzy frowned. Presentation complications were no picnic. Also, she’d never heard of anyone having complications with Katsuki-kun’s guidance since he was promoted to High Tier. Curiosity bubbled inside her. Could this be new information she could use in her research?

She tapped at her computer to reveal her schedule. It was completely full. She would have to skip her lunch break if she didn’t want to ask one of her patients to cancel.

“Yuko-san, bring him by at 1pm sharp. And bring me a sandwich.” It was 8am… her first patient should be arriving very soon.

Yuko agreed with copious amounts of gratitude, saying that Yuri’s mates would have him there on time,  and they would bring lunch. Then she hung up the phone without delay. Yuko really did sound worried… Izzy hoped no serious harm had come to the newly-presented alpha. Trauma during presentation was extremely difficult to deal with.

_Wait… **mates**?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay new development! This story is going on much longer than I expected it to, to be honest, so those Otayuri shippers who are becoming impatient waiting for me to start posting the other ending of this fic (Bourbon Neat), I'm so sorry!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tying up loose ends

After settling things with Yuko, Victor and Yuuri headed out to grab some food and pack the omega’s things. Yuko had agreed to box up and mail anything that Yuuri didn’t take with him, so a lot of the pressure was off them when it came to time. Yuri’s appointment was at 1 o’clock, so they still had a couple of hours both before and possibly after it to take care of things. The flat was actually owned by Yutopia Sugarhouse, so it would likely be occupied by another sweet within a few weeks.

“Where do you live?” Victor asked. He reached out and caught his mate’s hand, entwining their fingers together.

“Not too far. We can walk,” Yuuri replied. Then he looked down at their clasped hands. “It’s been a long time since I walked and held hands with someone.”

“Oh?” It was interesting that for all the physicality that Yuuri had been involved in at the sugarhouse, he had been denied such simple touches. It seemed to catch him off-guard, in a way. Victor knew that Japanese people weren’t very big on physical contact in general, but it was a well-known fact that omegas needed physical affection. It didn’t matter if it was from Alphas, Betas, or other Omegas; they needed it as surely as everyone needed food, water, and shelter.

“Do you have a roommate?” The Russian asked. “Maybe an omega you sleep next to on nights off?” That would probably cover it. If Yuuri had someone to cuddle when he was in private then it he wouldn’t require any public displays like this.

“No… I live alone,” Yuuri replied slowly, looking at Victor as though the man had just informed him that he was a faerie from the moon Calypso rather than just asked an innocuous question about a flatmate. “Why do you ask that?”

Victor considered how to phrase his explanation, but in the end there really wasn’t a tactful set of words. “Well, don’t you need to be touched regularly?”

Yuuri now looked like Victor had told him they were _both_ faeries, and they were on their way back to Calypso in a spaceship at that very moment.

“Victor… I know it’s been about 5 minutes since we signed for my release, but I didn’t think you’d forget so quickly that I’ve been a sweetworker for most of my omegian life.”

“But it’s not the same!” Victor protested. “Don’t you require platonic or romantic physical affection from someone you trust?” He was certain he’d been taught that in high school: how Omegas could go into withdrawal if they didn’t receive the proper contact.

Yuuri shrugged. “Oh, that…Sweetwork pretty much always cut it for me. Sometimes, the sweets would all pile together on the couches during the days before Yutopia opened. If I needed contact I could have joined them, I guess, but I never really did.” He watched the concrete pass beneath his feet as they walked. “Yeah, I’m probably just weird.”

Victor watched his mate and frowned. Yuuri didn’t really seem okay. Living alone? Omegas _never_ lived alone. And yeah, he probably spent most of the time at the sugarhouse, and he had Yuko, his sister, and the other omegas there, but what about days he didn’t come in? Surely he had some time off. Japan had some of the most omega-positive laws in the world, even requiring a minimum of 5 weeks off for sweetworkers over the course of each year.

“I prefer to live alone. No one else’s scent; no one else’s things. Just me. It’s a place where I get to control everything.”

Ah… there it was. Yuuri had put his omegian requirements to the side by making his personal freedom more important than his requirement for touch. But that was dangerous. It would make him more prone to illness and injury; age him faster; and could result in unnatural cycles.

“This is me,” the omega said, stopping in front of a building. “I’m in number 4.” The small construction was two stories high and held four flats that Victor could see. He figured there might be another four around the back. Yuuri guided Victor up the stairs to the second floor and to his door while fishing a key out of his pocket. “It’s not a very big place,” Yuuri murmured, somewhat abashed. “But I like it.” The door swung open, and Victor followed his mate into the living room.

The first thing he noticed was the level of comfort in the area. A plush couch and armchair sat in the center of the room facing a cozy fireplace of exposed red brick. Victor copied Yuuri and took of his shoes, setting them by the door. Stepping farther into the flat, he felt soft carpet under his feet. Thick blankets and fluffy pillows were set all over the room. Finally, Victor understood. This room was Yuuri’s nest. And he had just allowed Victor into it. That was an honor… to be allowed into an omega’s nest, even if it was as constant and casual as Yuuri’s flat was. Even if he was Yuuri’s Alpha. The scent of brown sugar and rain was completely untainted when it reached Victor’s nose, and he realized that it was doubtful that anyone except Yuuri (and possibly Betas or unpresented children) had been inside the apartment in a very long time.

Victor swallowed. “Yuuri… thank you.”

The omega looked back at him, and a broad, beautiful smile transformed his face. _You understand…_ It said. “Please, come in to my home,” he invited, beckoning forward with a hand.

Yuuri packed a suitcase with essentials while Victor made omelets from the eggs, cheese, and vegetables he found in the fridge. With chagrined amusement, he drew smiley faces on them with ketchup before presenting the meal to his omega.

Yuuri smiled and laughed before thanking Victor and heartily digging into the meal.

“Say Yuuri,” Victor asked when the ex-sweet took a sip of water. “Why didn’t you want me to use knotting semen earlier today?”

Yuuri set down the glass. “You know how fertile omegas can be within 24 hours of presentation. I just wanted to be very careful. Thank you for listening to me by the way; I know your alpha was in control, and even _he_ listened to me without an explanation. I really appreciate you trusting me.”

Victor stared as his mate. “Wait… I thought omegas couldn’t get pregnant during their presentation.”

Yuuri stared back at Victor. “What?”

“Since when can you get pregnant during a presentation?”

Brown eyes widened, and a bit of horror reflected in them. “Since always! Who the hell taught your dynamics class in high school?!”

“Nuns…” Victor replied, scowling. He didn’t like the disrespect his omega was showing him.

“Christ.”

Victor frowned but kept his mouth shut around the “Don’t take the lord’s name in vain,” that Sister Natalia had always scolded into him. Not that he even believed it… it was just a habit. Then something dawned on the alpha.

“Yuuri… I didn’t use a condom with him when you first brought me in.”

The inkling of horror in Yuuri’s eyes went full-fledged epic fright fest. “You… you…. Fuck!”

“I didn’t really have time to think of that when you were dragging me down the hall and throwing me on top of him, did I?”

Yuuri stood from his half-eaten lunch and began pacing around the white and blue kitchen. “Oh this is so not good. This could ruin our plans… No, no, it’s okay…. We have an appointment with Izzy-sensei in just a couple of hours. She’ll know what to do.”

“What can we do?” Victor asked, interrupting the ex-sweet talking to himself. “I know women have a morning-after pill they can take. Does that work for male omegas?”

Yuuri paused, biting his lower lip. Victor’s eyes focused on his mouth. It shouldn’t have been sexy. This was a serious situation. Yuri could get pregnant. Why was this man always so damn attractive? Someone was snapping their fingers in front of his face.

“Victor! Wake up! Where the hell did you go in your head?”

Victor blushed and apologized.

“Whatever, I was saying that it’s not designed for that, but maybe. We’ll ask Izzy-sensei when we get there. Shit, Yurio is going to freak out.”

Victor rubbed his hand on the back of his head. “Eh… you’re kind of freaking out. But Yuuri, do you really think he’s going to want to have an abortion?”

Yuuri stared at the silver-haired man and then said very slowly and clearly, as if speaking to a child or a foreigner not fluent in the language: “He can’t have an abortion, he’s not pregnant yet… What the hell are they teaching you in Russia?!” Then he softened. “Listen, this pill doesn’t cause an abortion, it just prevents a pregnancy from happening.”

“Oh… all right then…” Victor really need to brush up on this stuff… apparently a lot had changed in the couple of -decades since he had graduated high school. Maybe he would ask the physician for some pamphlets or something.

Yuuri picked up their plates and quickly scraped the leftover food into the trash can. He rinsed the dishes and left them in the sink; Yuko could take care of them later.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, and leaving his suitcase for Victor to roll, Yuuri made sure all the lights and the air conditioning were off and called for Victor to come out with him. As a last minute addition, Yuuri grabbed his favorite pillow and tucked it under his arm to bring with him. Damn, he was really going to miss this place.

Victor looked pale as he collected Yuuri’s suitcase and followed the omega down the stairs. It wasn’t until they had reached the bottom that Yuuri realized what he had just done. _I just yelled at and reprimanded my Alpha._ Dread and terror rose up in him, and he immediately scuttled away from the base of the stairs to put his back to the wall of the building. _Shit, what is he waiting for? There is no conceivable way he’s not going to punish me for how I just treated him. Hell… I deserve it._

Victor stepped off the stairs, giving the omega a confused look. “Yuuri,” he asked carefully, “Are you all right?”

“I’m sorry for being disrespectful,” Yuuri squeaked out, attempting to make himself as small and submissive-looking as possible. “Please, you don’t need to hit me.”

A shocked look crossed the Russian’s face, and he dropped Yuuri’s suitcase to come to the omega. “Thank you, Yuuri, I forgive you for that, and it _was_ stupid of me to not use a condom with Yura. But listen, it doesn’t matter what you do or what you say to me, I’ll never hurt you.” He seemed revolted by the very idea.

Yuuri swallowed. “But isn’t that… isn’t that how Alphas punish Omegas?”

Victor’s eyes took on a heavy kindness, “I think you have just as much to learn about me as an alpha as I do about Omegas in general…” He slowly held out his arms and pulled Yuuri into them, enfolding him in a gentle embrace and dropping his cheek to his dark hair.

Yuuri stood stock-still. Again and again, the man surprised him. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that Victor would never lash out at him in anger like he had seen and heard of so many Alphas doing before. How had he gotten this lucky? He wouldn’t be able to trust the man’s words completely for a long time, but even so, just hearing them made Yuuri feel so happy he could burst. Ever so reluctantly, he relaxed in Victor’s grasp and wrapped his arms around the taller man’s waist.

“There now… Good Omega,” Victor murmured into his hair. “Don’t worry about anything like that again. If I’m upset with you, I’ll tell you, and I might get angry sometimes, but I’m never, ever going to harm you. Alphas that do such things disgust me.” The last words had a heavy undertone of revulsion. “And I’m not going to punish you,” he chuckled. “You’re not a child.”

Yuuri took deep breaths: in through the nose, out through the mouth, just like he used to do when managing anxiety before a competition. He gripped the back of Victor’s shirt tightly and smooshed his face into the Russian’s chest to convince himself that the alpha wasn’t a figment of his imagination. His breathing and heat rates slowly returned to normal.

Seeming satisfied that his mate was sufficiently calmed, Victor let go of Yuuri, but grasped one of his hands. He picked up the suitcase with the other and wheeled it behind him. “Come on then; we have to get Yura to that physician. Izzy-sensei, you said her name was? I like female physicians; I think they’re more compassionate.”

Yuuri let himself be tugged along down the sidewalk by his Alpha, and the only thing he could think was: _What…..?_

* * *

 

  
Yuri woke to silent empty room, but before he could panic, he noticed a note perched on the nightstand with his name on it.

“Yura—” It read. “We have gone to pack Yuuri’s things. Take a shower and then eat the food in the fridge. We should be back soon. Your appointment is at 1. – Victor and Yuuri.” A collection of Xs and Os graced the bottom of the page, and Yuri rolled his eyes. None-the-less, he did as he was bidden. Just to be rebellious, he ate the cold meat and cheese from the fridge first… all the while regretting his decision, because his skin was sticking to itself from the after effects of that latest sordid experience in his life. They were becoming more and more common, it seemed.

After hopping into the shower for the millionth time, Yuri sat down the floor and hung his head is the stream of water, letting his hair fall over his face. A physician that specialized in omegian medicine, huh… Doesn’t mean she would know anything about Yuri, though. He’d always strived to be special, but this wasn’t exactly what he’d been going for. Presenting as alpha and then in the end being bonded to two of them except one wasn’t actually Alpha…. Yeah that made crap loads of sense. He scowled, collecting water in his mouth and tn letting it drain off his tongue.

He grabbed the shampoo and slathered a generous amount into his hair, massaging firmly and piling it into a mass on his head with quick, efficient motions. He rinsed it until the water went clear… Then he repeated the process. What the hell had he been thinking asking his mates to purposely put that sticky substance into his hair…? Oh wait… He hadn’t asked for that. Victor had just assumed. Jerk.

All right, so it wasn’t really Victor’s fault. He’d basically asked anyway… without really asking. Yuri could have said he didn’t want his hair soiled. And it had felt good at the time. Fucking omegian hormones fucking with his judgment. He supposed they all needed to have a conversation. He’d enjoyed the attention of his mates, but he wanted to be on the opposite side for once.

Suddenly, an image of repeating the earlier event but with Yuuri at the center flashed across Yuri’s mind, and it went straight to his cock. The idea of holding the sweet down and making him come over and over again made Yuri’s mouth water. He could picture the raven in throes of pleasure: Yuri fucking him while Victor sucked off him, until there was nothing left inside the Japanese man and he was shooting blanks.

Yuri slid a fist over his hardening cock and frowned at it. It seemed bigger than it had earlier… Odd.

Irritated with himself for getting distracted by a fantasy, he turned the water to cold and flushed away the erection with the thoughts. He’d indulged in quite enough digressions.

After shutting off the water, Yuri toweled himself off and twisted his hair into a loose braid. Noting the buttons torn from his shirt, he dressed in a green t-shirt from Yuuri’s dresser and his own black pants from the night before. The youth was feeling antsy, probably from being away from his mates for the last couple of hours. He needed to get out and find something to do until they came back. Glancing at himself in the mirror, Yuri decided he looked presentable enough and ventured out of the Room 7 for the first time since his presentation… _presentations_ began.

He spotted Yuko sitting at the front desk but didn’t feel the urge to talk to her. Yuri could have asked when Victor and Yuuri would back, but the note had said it would be soon, so he didn’t bother. The house mistress must have heard him approach though, because she twisted around to see who was behind her.

Yuri ducked through the open red door that lead to the dance floor. The room was in the middle of a de-scenting procedure. The man at the DJ booth was managing the workers with their sprays.  About a dozen sweets relaxed on the plushy sofas where Yuri had met Eros. They were playing cards, tapping on laptops, or thumbing listlessly through their cell phones. More of them were piled together on the floor napping.

“Hey!” Someone cried out, and Yuri’s attention was drawn to the Thai man he had met the night before.

_Feels like it was a lifetime ago…_

The omega’s name was some fruit. Pear? Pineapple? No. Peach. That was it.

The sweet was beckoning him over with overly large gestures. “Come sit with us! Where’s Yuu-kun?”

Yuri sighed. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do until his mates came back. He ventured over to the group of sweets and sat down between Peach and a small man with brown hair currently video-chatting on his phone.

“Yuuri is packing his things,” Yuri told the sweet.

Peach stared at him. “What? Why?!”

The Russian had no idea what to tell him. Was he allowed to tell anyone the truth, or was he supposed to start using their assumed cover now? Maybe he could sort of slide between the lines?

“Erm… that is to say….” Giving up, Yuri tilted his head to the side and tapped the bold bond mark that Yuuri had placed the previous night.

Peach screamed. Just flat out screamed, pulled out his phone, and snapped a photo of Yuri. The brown-haired sweet turned to look at him with interested eyes. He turned his phone too, so the man he was chatting with could see as well. Several sleeping omegas sat up abruptly, smacking their heads together and groaning in pain and annoyance.

“Dammit, Phichit, what the hell?” Yuri didn’t recognize the man that spoke, but the woman he had wrapped up in his arms was Starla; that girl that Yuri had rejected before meeting Peach… Phichit? _Cute. Very cute._

“Yuu-kun took a mate. Yuu-kun took a mate! OH MY GOD, YUURI TOOK A MATE!” He grabbed Yuri’s hands, squeezing them tightly. “You must really be something special. He always said he didn’t want one. You are so lucky!” A tittering of excited voices came from the surrounding omegas.

“Wish I could find a mate…” Starla muttered, scowling. “All I’ve got is my dorky Omega brother.”

 “Yeah, I know I’m really lucky…” Yuri replied, squirming his hands within Phichit’s to keep the blood flowing through them.

“You’re completely covered in his scent, I can’t believe I didn’t notice before. Oh and your scent is lemon and honey and… is that poppies? That’s really pretty! And…” Then the sweet froze.

“Hey, are you okay?” Yuri asked in concern.

“Why do you smell like an omega that isn’t Yuuri?”

 _Shit… All that come on my skin from Vitya and Yuuri must be mostly covering up my scent so no one can actually identify it’s me, but it seems this guy can still smell it…_  

Several more of the sweets leaned in, scenting the air, frowning, and discussing the green apple aroma.

“Guang Hong, we don’t have any omegas with an apple scent...” commented the man’s face on the phone to the brown-haired man. “Should I come by?”

By the glory of the gods, at that moment, Yuuri and Victor walked through the door, laughing together and carrying a couple of bags. Despite the heat, Victor was wearing a light-weight cotton scarf. He actually made it look fashionable.

 _Oh thank fuck!_ Yuri felt a massive knot in his abdomen dissolve when they came in to view. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the bond being stretched earlier or if he was just thankful to have help dealing with the latest catastrophic event in his life.

Phichit released Yuri’s hands and scurried across the floor to reach his friend. “Your mate smells like another omega,” He announced immediately.

“Oh, does he?” Yuuri asked casually. “He’s been here since we bonded, so that would be quite a feat. Let me see.”  Victor and Yuuri followed Phichit back up to the couches and sat on either side of the young Russian, making a point to spread the sweets a little farther away from him. Guang Hong moved over without being asked, eyes dancing back and forth between the three mates while he inhaled the air carefully. His eye brows scrunched together in confusion, and he seemed to want to ask something; fortunately, the sweet remained silent.

“Hmm… he has a lot of different scents on him.” Victor noted. “But I recognize that apple from an omega woman who frequents my flat. Yura spends a lot of time there, too. It’s not odd that his clothes may have picked up our scents.” He then examined his finger nails to show exactly how important he found the entire conversation.

Yuuri nodded placidly. “Mmm, yes what did you say her name was?” He nudged at Yuri until the youth put an arm around him.

“Albina,” Yuri supplied immediately, sighing in relief as he wrapped himself around his mate.

Victor stared at him for a moment. “Yes… Albina… Such a nice woman. I’ll have to call her when we get back.”

  _Crap… Why the hell did I say Babushka’s name? No one’s been named Albina for like a hundred years!_

“Not to mention the scent erasers are mixing this place up like crazy…” Yuuri added. “Does anyone smell raspberries and smoke?”

With Yuuri appearing unconcerned and a possible excuse identified for the apple scent underlying Yuri’s mate’s coatings, Phichit and the other sweets lost interest in the intrigue and set themselves to asking Yuuri a battery of questions about his new mate and his move.

Yuri spent the time trying to look cool and composed, while giving vague answers to any of the questions that came his way that weren’t intercepted by Victor. This was stupidly nerve-wracking. He needed Yuuri to teach him that Alpha mimicry like yesterday.

“So, Yuko cleared my contract termination, and I’m all set!” Yuuri announced finally. “We stop at Izzy-sensei’s for Yuri’s post-presentation check-up, and then we fly out.”

Guang Hong had returned to talking to the man on the phone. “Everything is fine here now, Leo, but if you want to say good bye to Yuuri, he’s moving to Russia… like now.”

“Mmm, Leo, I’ll say good bye to you from afar,” the ex-sweet cut in. “Newly presented Alpha mates around Alphas they don’t know….”

_That he would probably be able to tell that the lemon and honey is all from Victor… Alphas are better at separating scents than Omegas…_

“I know the drill,” Leo’s face said, smiling. “Take care of yourself!” Then his eyes narrowed on Yuri. “And you watch yourself, Little Alpha. We love him, and his happiness is on you now, so make sure you treasure him.”

Yuri shivered at the dominance breathing from the man’s every word and was happy that he didn’t have to deal with the alpha’s scent. It took everything in him not to bare his throat in submission. In fact, he may have only managed to avoid it, because Vitya was at his side.

Swallowing, he made his voice as cocky as he could manage. “Of course. He spent years waiting for a mate that would satisfy him, and that turned out to be me. My sympathies to the lot of you that didn’t measure up, but I assure you, I am worth the wait, and he’ll be very happy.”

Victor raised a hand to his mouth and coughed; Yuri was certain he was covering up a laugh.

“Thank you for your concern, Leo,” Yuuri said dryly. “You know I wouldn’t have chosen a mate that I wouldn’t be happy with… Yuri is wonderful.”

The surrounding sweets smiled and nodded and giggled. Several leaned over to touch Yuuri’s knee or hand and say a kind word about Yuri. How handsome he was, or how bright and intelligent his eyes looked. Phichit snapped another photo of them on his phone. That was what? Twelve?

“At least he has a sense of humor…” Starla quipped.

“Wait, was that somehow a dig at me?” The omega with his arms around her asked. Yuri took him to be the dorky brother she had mentioned earlier.

Guang Hong glared at them, and Yuri suddenly realized that the siblings had interrupted some sort of omegian ritual: congratulating their friend (or maybe this was only among sweets?) on his new mate.

“I’m very happy for you Yuri,” Victor commented with a twinkle in his eye, “Your mate is wonderfully clever and insightful. We talked a lot when going to gather his belongings while you slept, and I think you’ve made an excellent choice.”

“Th-thank you, Vitya… and thank you to all you as well…”

This little exchange seemed to delight the omegas to no end. Yuuri looked over at the two Russians and simply beamed. Yuri couldn’t help but smile back. He had no idea why all of them were suddenly so happy, but he figured it had something to do with either he and Victor conforming to their ritual or him thanking them. Hopefully it was the former, because if an Alpha thanking Omegas for compliments was an anomaly, then he didn't think he liked most Alphas.

“Ah…” Yuuri glanced at his watch. “We have to get going. Thank you everyone! I’ll try to come back and visit soon!” He hopped up and hugged Phichit. Guang Hong and a good portion of the others jumped to their feet and transformed the simple embrace into a giant group hug.

After Yuuri extricated himself, he offered a hand to Yuri.

The Russian youth continued to smile helplessly, completely overwhelmed by both the adorableness of his mate and omegas in general, and the overwhelming nature of the entire encounter.  He took the ex-sweet’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah.... I'm right in the middle of moving. We finally got most of our belongings and our cats to the new place, and it rained the whole time we were moving the stuff in from the car. I'm so envious that Yuuri has Yuko to take care of most of this for him! 
> 
> Next chapter: family communication and visiting the doctor!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's get a few things cleared up...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a build-up chapter... Next time we'll learn more about what's really going on inside of Yuri!

Yuuri put his car in gear and pulled out of the parking lot. His alpha was riding in the passenger seat, currently enamored with the outdated radio functions. Yurio perched in the left back seat sulking. The ex-sweet could see him in the rearview mirror.

“Yurio, stop that! You look like an angry kitten on the way to the vet!”

Victor snorted before he could cover his mouth and busied himself rolling down the window to feel the breeze and to avoid involving himself in the oncoming conversation.

“Can you blame me? I don’t fucking want to go!” The youth crossed his arms over his chest and glared out the window as if the houses blurring past were to blame for everything unfortunate that had ever happened to him ever.

Victor caught Yuuri’s eye and mouthed: “Yura is afraid of physicians… He had a unfortunate experience as a child.” The smile on his face, however, told Yuuri that it couldn’t have been all that horrible.

“What happened?” The raven asked out of the corner of his mouth.

Victor’s lips trembled and eyes glittered as if he desperately held back laughter. “Later…” he murmured.

Yuuri stopped at a red light and turned around to check on his younger mate. “How ya doing back there, kid?”

Yurio glowered and opened his mouth to reply, but he was interrupted by a voice coming from outside the car.

“Oh my god, is that an omega driving?!”

Yuuri looked out his window to see a group of women in the car stopped to his left. They were foreigners. He sighed.

“Isn’t that illegal?” The blonde in the back asked the driver.

“It is at home. It’s not safe; I can’t believe his Alpha lets him drive.”

Yuri gritted his teeth… _Yes, of course. I smell like a bonded omega now…_ It was illegal in many countries for Omegas to hold driver’s licenses; in others, they required their Alpha’s written consent. Fortunately, Japan was not so strict or ridiculous. Yuuri suddenly realized he needed to ask about the laws in Russia; he hoped they weren’t too discriminatory.

“Hey!” Called the driver to Yuuri. “Hey, Omega! Maybe you should let your Alpha drive; you could hit something or hurt somebody!”

The ex-sweet’s hands tensed to a white knuckle grip on the steering wheel. It was his car; he was the only one who knew where they were going, and yet this obnoxious woman…He had no idea if she was attempting to harass him or if she genuinely thought she was helping him out by some misguided sense of chivalry.

Victor leaned over to Yuuri and quietly asked: “Would you like me to take care of this? Or would it be best to ignore them? It’s your call, Yuuri.”

Before the raven could answer, Yurio beat him to the punch.

“Fuck that, I’ll do it,” he said as he rolled down his window. Victor surreptitiously leaned across Yuuri’s lap and flicked the switch for the child safety locks.

“Hey Beta bitches!” Yurio growled out his window. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, talking to him like that? It’s completely legal and safe for him to be driving. And the fact that you ignorant cunts don’t know that just proves how useless you are as human beings!”

“What’s it to you!?” Shouted the brunette in the opposing passenger seat. “You’re just some little boy fresh out of diapers!”

A sudden tinge of cinnamon hit the air as Yuuri lost his patience. “He is my mate, and you will show him the respect he deserves, or by the time I’m through with you, your mates will be willing to go through the hell of breaking your bonds in order to get away from the disgusting remnants I’ve left of your faces and bodies!” He was shaking, trying to keep himself under control.

“Pfft!” The beta driver snickered. “You can’t do anything to us, and your Alpha probably presented yesterday.”

The passenger held out a hand for the driver to high-five.

Yuuri felt helplessness attempt to swamp over him, but at that moment, Victor rested as hand on his shoulder and gave him an encouraging nod, his eyes serious, but questioning. Still asking Yuuri if he would like the alpha to solve the problem. Yurio sputtered in the background, one hand jiggling the door handle in confusion at its complete and utter lack to response. He was obviously dying to leap out and throttle the women. The helplessness was completely obliterated by the sensation of security. With these men by his side, he would never be helpless again. If he couldn’t handle something, they would be more than happy to take care of it. But these women… they were nothing. Yuuri could deal with them himself.

“Lady… I was a motherfucking HT sweetworker until today. Do you know what that means?”

Victor and Yurio glanced at each other… apparently _they_ didn’t know what that meant. The foreign Betas looked just as clueless.

“Who do you think knows all the unbonded alphas in this city? In this country? Who do you think could make a call to the rental company with your license plate to get your information? And who do you think could call the police _and_ the yakuza and put a tag on you?”

“You… you don’t have that kind of power… You’re just a stupid omega” the blonde in the back seat scoffed.

“Bitch, I am THE omega,” Yuuri growled. “And everyone and their mother fucking loves me.” Silence hit for a beat. “Your light is green. Get going. I need to see your license plate so at the very minimum, I can report you for Omega harassment. You’re in Japan now, and we don’t put up with that shit.

 

* * *

 

 

“Yuuri. That. Was. Fucking. Awesome!” Yuri crowed, straining against his seatbelt to latch his arms around the raven from behind the front seat. His mate was the most badass thing he’d seen since the last Marvel movie, and Yuuri was _real_.

Victor grinned broadly. “He’s right; that was pretty epic. They wouldn’t even drive away for fear you’d see their plate number!”

Yuuri chuckled and squeezed Yuri’s wrist where it lay on his chest. “Thanks…” he said sheepishly, red blooming on his cheeks. “I usually don’t drive with the windows down, but you seemed to be enjoying it so I figured, why not?”

“Wait, you have to go out of your way to avoid encounters like that?” Victor questioned.

“Yeah… Hasetsu is famous for its hot springs, so a lot of tourists come to visit, and they don’t know the laws here.”

“Mmm,” Yuri gave a mumble of understanding, and released Yuuri to fall back into his own seat. “You’ll be able to drive in St. Petersburg, too. Omegas can drive during the day, and Victor will obviously sign off for you to be able to drive at night. Or I guess, I will… if we can convince the brass that I’m Alpha.”

“The evening cut-off is at 8pm, but, it might not be a good idea to draw attention to Yura’s dynamic… ” Victor explained. “Would it be all right to wait to fill the permissions until after World’s in a month? You can drive my or Yuri’s car until we get you one of your own.” He looked anxious, not wanting to displease Yuuri but trying to follow a rational course of thought. Yuri unhappily agreed. He hadn’t even learned any mimicry yet. The only things keeping other people from recognizing his dynamic were his mates’ scents woven into his skin and his own shitty attitude that people attributed to a stereotypic Alpha. He smirked. People were such sheep sometimes.

“Victor… that’s fine, I don’t need to drive at night. And cars are expensive; I don’t need my own. This one belongs to Yutopia and is under Yuko’s name; it was just a perk of working there. Anyway the bonds will keep me stuck like glue to you two for a while now,” Yuuri replied. “I don’t need to be pampered…”

“Doesn’t matter!” Yuri interrupted. He knew how important Yuuri’s independence was to him. The raven needed to know he could go wherever he pleased, whenever he pleased. “Having control of your own movements isn’t pampering. You should have a car right away, not have to ask or wait for one of us to take you places.”

Yuuri smiled at the young Russian through the rear-view mirror and took a left turn.

“Your freedom is very important to us, Yuuri…” Victor elaborated, using two fingers to tuck the omega’s dark hair back behind his ear. “We want you to feel comfortable with us; not trapped or controlled. You should be with us only because _you want to be with us_.”

Yuri murmured his agreement. “I’m sorry about the wait for the night driving. The sooner I start practicing mimicry, the sooner we can work around that stupid law.”

“Thank you, Yurio, but you have to remember that it won’t be safe for you to drive at night either… The cops usually use pinprick cases to test blood in situations like that, right?”

_Shit, I hate having my blood drawn, I’m never driving at night again._ Yuri had once had a physician ask for his hand and then prick his finger without explaining what was going on. From then on, the blonde had had a thing against clinics and physicians and another thing about explicit consent.

“No, he’ll be all right once we get his pheromones calmed down,” Victor corrected. “Yura is a celebrity in Russia; and frankly, it’s a pretty corrupt system. We have enough power to keep the cops from pulling him over. Additionally, budget cuts have reduced the number of cars maintaining blood kits and the amount of policemen trained to use them. It’s unlikely Yura’ll actually manage to encounter someone willing to deal with the repercussions of wrongfully accusing him of being Omega…”

Yuuri let out a low dark chuckle. “Accused of being Omega… As if it’s a crime just to have the lesser secondary gender.”

“I prefer to call it the lovelier dynamic, but yeah, not everyone concurs with my take on it,” the alpha said with a sigh.

“Being Omega is really shit, sometimes…” Yuuri allowed.

One particular disadvantage of being Omega popped into Yuri’s mind suddenly, and he remembered that he needed to talk to his mates about their previous bedroom encounter. “Not to change the subject drastically, but I want to talk to you two about something involving dynamics and whatever. Specifically mine.”

“Hmm?” Victor asked, turning around in his seat as much as the seatbelt would allow.

“I’m listening,” Yuuri chimed in, eyes still focused on the road.

“We need to get something clear,” Yuri said pointedly, arms crossed. “I may be an omega now, but I am not just a freaking submissive, and dammit all, I won’t have you two taking advantage of my instincts all the time for your own amusement!”

Victor stared at him for a second, and then his lips thinned in a suppressed smile. “Yes, yes… This is about our last session in bed, isn’t it?”

“Stop with the condescending attitude!” Yuri raised his voice. “This isn’t fair, and it isn’t what I asked for!”

Yuuri reached out a hand backwards for Yuri to grab. “I’m sorry, Yurio… I thought it was what you wanted. We’ll need to be more careful in the future. Really, we’re sorry.” His remorseful eyes met the blonde’s briefly through the rearview mirror before he had to look away to watch the traffic.

Yuri took the offered hand, stroking it gently. Honestly, it wasn’t Yuuri that he had so much of a problem with… The youth carded a hand through his hair and sighed. “It was, I mean… I thought it was. But it’s not all I need, I guess. I need more control over these situations for a while.”

Yuuri glanced once at Victor before turning his eyes back to the road. “Come on, Alpha; he’s serious. We fucked up, help me fix it.”

Victor scowled, but it seemed to be anger directed at himself. Yuri could almost see his inner alpha beating its head against a figurative desk.

“Yura,” he intoned, composing himself. “I pushed too hard and went to fast, because I gave my alpha entirely too much free reign. Please accept my sincerest apologies. Yuuri is right, we’ll be more… okay, let’s be honest it was my fault. _I’ll_ be more sensitive to your needs in the future.”

“Thank you for telling us this directly,” the older omega added.

“In school, they told us you have to tell your mate anything you want them to know. Especially at this stage, because everything is so new, and we can screw it all up by not keeping open communication lines.” Yuri haphazardly attempted to remember the wording from his teacher. Eh, close enough.

“Yes, that’s absolutely true. You can tell us anything, right Yuuri?”

The ex-sweet agreed. “Yeah, and thank god he didn’t go to your nunnery for school, Victor.”

The alpha made an unpleasant face. “It wasn’t a nunnery; it was a Catholic academy.”

Yuri looked back and forth between them trying to figure out exactly how this tangent had developed and where it was leading.

“May as well have been a fucking convent,” Yuuri finished dryly.

Yuri coughed. “Getting back on subject… If you’re going to do something that I haven’t explicitly asked for, then I need you to get consent from me until we’re all more on the same page. That shit was really obnoxious to get out of my hair, Vitya.”

Victor apologized again, his ears red, and readily acquiesced to the demand.

 

* * *

 

 

The bell rang, and Izzy looked up from the chart to which she was adding her previous patient’s notes. The receptionist had gone to lunch, so she went to greet her patients herself.

“Come in, come in! Welcome!” She swung the door open, and in front of her she found three men. The first she recognized: Katsuki Yuuri’s dark curling hair was in disarray and a sheepish expression graced his face. The second was a Russian alpha with unusual silver hair. The last must have been the Russian youth who had just presented under Yuuri’s guidance. The only problem being that, despite the mess of convoluted scents on him, Izzy’s trained senses told her he was Omega. She said nothing of her thoughts and waved the men into her office, mind boggling and bouncing around possible explanations.

“Hey Izzy-sensei, thanks for seeing him on such short notice,” Katsuki-kun said bashfully. “We really appreciate it.” He handed her a meticulously wrapped bento box which she gratefully accepted.

“Of course, of course, anytime!” Izzy ushered them into the waiting room and shut the door behind her. “My name is Isabella Yang. All of my patients here call me Izzy-sensei, and you’re welcome to do the same if it’s more comfortable for you.” She bowed a greeting to Katsuki, which he returned, and then she held out a hand for the blonde youth to shake.

“You must be Mr. Plisetsky; congratulations on your presentation!”

The boy took her hand with great trepidation, but the hand shake was solid. “Just Yuri, is fine…”

Then Izzy extended her hand toward the unknown man. “And Alpha, lovely to meet you.”

“Please, Victor will do. And the pleasure is all mine. Yuuri and his former house mistress have told us wonderful things about you,” the Alpha replied humbly. His hand shake was firm but gentle; controlled and practiced. Izzy immediately felt herself being charmed. _Wait, former house mistress?_

“Thank you! I would like to meet with the three of you to discuss the situation,” _of all of you smelling like a giant complicated mess,_ “but first I just need to take down a bit of information from Yuri. If you two could wait here, please?”

Victor and Yuuri nodded and took seats on the side of the room. Victor reached out and pulled the omega close to him, and Yuuri smiled. Izzy watched the situation out of the corner of her eye, but as soon as she rounded the corner, she set all her focus on her patient.

Izzy had Yuri hop on a scale and tell her his height. Then she took him into one of her three patient rooms to take his vitals: blood pressure, temperature, heart and breathing rate; everything was within normal limits.

“Looks great! Now can you answer some questions for me, please?”

Yuri nodded, looking a bit disgruntled. Izzy wasn’t sure if the kid didn’t like doctors or just didn’t like her; she ignored the negative expression on his face, but prepared herself for a less than open set of answers from him.

“How are you feeling today?”

“Fine.” He crossed his arms, and stubbornness settled around him like a cloak.  

“What medications are you taking, either with or without a prescription?”

“None. Maybe some ibuprofen for pain.”

“How often and for what do you take it?”

“A couple of times a week, maybe. Sore muscles and bruises.”

Izzy sighed. He did _not_ want to talk to her. “And what is it that you do that causes those injuries?”

“I figure skate. Professionally.”

Izzy was taken aback. The lithe youth was at peak physical fitness, but she never would have guessed. She winced internally. Presenting as Omega would ruin his career just like it had for Katsuki… she began to see at least one connection between the pair. Well, she supposed she didn’t have to ask him about how much exercise he was getting.

“That must be very exciting. What competition do you have coming up?” Maybe she could engage him this way.

Finally, a bit of light entered Yuri’s eyes. “World’s is next month. I’m really looking forward to showing the program Victor and I choreographed. He’s my coach now, by the way. I just started working with him exclusively this year; we used to skate under the same coach in Russia before that, but he just retired.”

“That sounds very exciting! I’ll be sure to watch it.”

Yuri nodded vigorously. “Thank you, I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“Moving on, just a few more questions: how often do you drink alcohol or use tobacco products?”

A look of distaste crossed his face. “I don’t smoke at all. Alcohol, maybe a couple of drinks a week during the off-season. None near competitions. I don’t use any illegal shi—stuff either.”

“Perfect,” Izzy replied, making notes in her chart. “Now, if you’ll hop on the table for me, I’ll just do a quick physical exam to make sure everything looks ship-shape.”

Yuri’s scowling expression returned, but he did as she asked, kicking off his shoes and sliding onto the exam table.

Izzy ignored him temporarily while she listened to his heart, stomach, and lungs. He breathed deeply for her automatically without being bidden. She took a look inside his ears, nose, throat, and eyes. She checked him over from head to toe, looking for anything abnormal or of concern. He looked good. Better than good, actually.

“All finished, you can sit up.” He did so immediately. “So, let’s talk about your presentation. Would it be helpful for you to have Katsuki-kun here or—“

Yuri interrupted her immediately: “I want them both here. It’ll be easier that way.”

While it was fairly unusual to want both your guardian and your guiding sweet in attendance for a post-presentation clinical work-up, it wasn’t unheard of; Izzy had had one or two other people request it. She responded agreeably and went to get the other two men from the waiting room.

When she found them, they were engaged in a quiet discussion.

“I think we should tell her. It’ll get her started on the right path. I’m sure Izzy-sensei will figure it all out anyway, and even if she doesn’t, she needs the information to give Yurio proper care!”

The silver-haired alpha shook his head. “I don’t see the point; if she’s going to figure it out anyway, then there’s no need to spout to it out for.”

“Gentlemen,” Izzy interrupted. “Yuri would like you to join him for the rest of his appointment.” She smiled. So Katsuki-kun trusted her and Yuri’s coach didn’t. It was excellent to hear that her patient had faith in her. The other man would come around.

They followed her into the patient room. Yuri was sitting sideways on the exam table. Kicking his sock-covered feet and staring at the painting of kittens that Izzy had hanging on the wall.

He looked over and relief alighted on his face when Katsuki and Victor walked into the room. He reached out his arms, and they both went to him immediately, each taking a hand. Victor laid his other hand on the youth’s shoulder and Katsuki placed a palm on his cheek. Some sort of silent communication seemed to transpire between them, and then the two older men stepped away and took the seats next to Izzy’s computer. Trying to memorize everything that had just happened, she joined them.

“So, where were we? Ah yes, we were going to discuss how your presentation went. Did you have symptoms of presenting Omega?”

The three of them froze. Katsuki thawed first and sighed. “Way to jump to the heart of it, Izzy-sensei…” he said softly. “It might be better if we just tell you what happened first.”

“I warn you,” Victor added, “It’s a little unusual.”

“Stop dragging it out,” Yuri scowled. “I was symptomatic to present Alpha. Then I presented Alpha under Yuuri. Then I got a headache and presented Omega under Yuuri by mimicry but it didn’t sate the heat, so Yuuri got Victor and that worked. Now, we have some sort of weird three way bond that we don’t understand.” He tapped the two bond marks on his throat simultaneously with his index fingers.

“And Yura might be pregnant,” Victor slipped in at the end.

“WHAT?!”

Izzy attempted to take in this insane story in while Yuri shouted at Victor over the last comment. She felt excitement bloom inside her. This was it. This was her missing link. A person who had presented as _both_ key dynamics. She had to find out the cause. This was _wonderful_! Well, for her… She winced at how uncomfortable it must have been for her patient.

“All right, let’s not jump to any conclusions,” she interrupted the squabbling. “Katsuki-kun, I think I would like to hear a bit more than the bare bones that Yuri has told me, and if you don’t have a problem with it, I’d like to record it. Katsuki-kun, if you would…”

Katsuki told her the story, starting with his decision to guide Yuri’s presentation. Yuri and Victor chimed in regularly for parts of it, sometimes taking over the narration briefly before giving it back to the raven. When they finished, Izzy was stunned. Stunned and ecstatic and enthralled.

“This is… you’re right Katsuki-kun, this hasn’t happened in Asia before. There were a couple of instances in Africa and South America, and one in Romania some time ago, but none of them turned out this successfully. And by that, I mean none of them survived the switch presentation.” She turned to Yuri. “You are very lucky to have been guided by Katsuki-kun… If not for his mimicry, you may not have survived. If your heat hadn’t been addressed so quickly, I worry the worst may have happened…”

“Don’t you think I know that…” Yuri muttered, staring at his toes. He looked like he trying not to cry. Izzy didn’t bring attention to it.

“You were also an integral part in his recovery,” Izzy added to Victor. “But, honestly, any Alpha probably would have been acceptable.”

“I know,” Victor replied. “I was lucky to be chosen,” Yuuri smiled back at him.

“Right, so I’d like to do a full work-up, considering the situation. I can also find out if you’re likely to get pregnant, Yuri, so we’ll know if we have to address that.” The youth nodded, his worried eyes still avoiding meeting anyone else’s.

‘Normally, I’d send you to the lab for blood work, but I do have the capabilities to run the tests here, so—“

“No,” the youth said pointedly.

“Yura, let the physician take a blood sample,” Victor said in an exasperated voice.

“No. No way,” he closed his eyes and shook his head vigorously while scuttling backward until he was flush against the wall on the table.

“I’ve haven’t seen a nineteen year-old so afraid of needles before…” Izzy commented quietly to Yuuri. “Can you help me out?”

Yuuri ‘s face was breaking into a slow smile, as if he was just understanding something. He nodded and stood from his seat to take Yuri’s hand again.

“Lie down, please. Don’t make Victor have to use that voice.” Katsuki murmured. Yuri paled, and Victor smirked.

“Whenever you’re ready, Izzy-sensei,” the raven mouthed to her. Izzy grabbed her kit from a drawer and set up next to Yuri’s left arm on the other side from Katsuki.

“It’ll be fine,” the omega murmured soothingly. “Izzy-sensei has done this for me before too, when I didn’t have time to go to the lab. It hardly even hurts at all. She’s really good at it.”

Victor stepped up next to the physician and stroked fingers through the youth’s blond hair. “Just look at Yuuri, now.” His voice was gentle, an Alpha croon tinging the words in a way that lulled the omega.

“Mm… you’re cheating again…” Yuri muttered, sighing.

“Little poke!” Izzy warned, inserting the needle into his vein. She snapped off the tourniquet and began to fill vials, careful not to apply extra pressure when she changed from a full one to empty. All that phlebotomy practice was really paying off now. Finishing up, she tossed the syringe in the red sharps container and secured a cotton ball to the tiny wound with paper tape.

“All done!” Her voice rang out.

Yuri tilted his head up a bit groggily.

“Rein it in, Victor,” Yuuri chuckled, shaking his head to clear it.

Victor must have quit releasing his pheromones, because the youth’s eyes cleared as well. He sat up with Yuuri’s help and glanced around the room, his eyes settling on the bandage on his arm. “But, that didn’t hurt at all,” he commented in confusion.

“Not all of them don’t care about your discomfort, Yura… Particularly, considering we’re not in St. Petersburg. That woman who took your blood without explaining the situation to you when you were 4 is a different story entirely.” Victor explained with a chuckle.

Izzy beamed, both at Yuri’s pleased surprise and the half-compliment the alpha had paid her. “All right, I’m going to take this to my friend’s lab around the corner; it’s only for research, but he lets me use it when I need results with a bit more privacy or speed than usual. He also keeps a CT scanner and an MRI, so I’ll want to run you through those as well. Normally, I would need you to go to the hospital and have this run through your insurance…”

Yuri looked at her with giant, pleading, ocean-colored eyes, and she felt her heart break a little and wondered if he was releasing some omegian pheromones that she couldn’t consciously detect. The boy really did have beautiful eyes.

“Now don’t look at me like that, Yuri,” Izzy continued. “Considering the circumstances… I think I can get away with billing it under my research grant.”

A look of relief passed concurrently across the three mens’ faces and tension was visibly released from their shoulders.

“Thank you, Izzy-sensei… We really need to keep this under wraps if we’re going to keep Yurio on the ice.” Yuuri explained.

_Keep him on the ice? How on earth are they going to manage that?_

“Think nothing of it; we just need to get going now. These tests take some time to run.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 4th of July, Americans! (I am one, so yay for liver-poisoning booze, air-polluting fireworks, and lazing around for the day!) Actually, I have to spend the whole day unpacking, but I'm officially completely moved out of my old place, so I consider that a success.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SCIENCING REALLY HARD!! It's going to get complicated... Seriously, I'm sorry; just go with it.
> 
> And Izzy backstory.

Izzy-sensei had finished running her previously described tests and was currently waiting anxiously by a centrifuge for another sample of Yurio’s blood to spin down. Yuuri had no idea what the doctor was doing now. The last thing she had wanted from Yurio was a semen sample, and she directed him down the hall for some privacy. Naturally, Victor had volunteered to help out. Yurio was somewhat less than thrilled by the idea.

“Vitya, I am so pissed at you right now that I can’t even see straight. There is no way you’re coming in this room with me.”

“Come on, Yura, it’s not like I did it on purpose. We’ll get through this one way or the other!” Victor tried. Yuuri knew he was trying to help, but it was really Yurio that was in a bind right now. Victor wasn’t handling it in a way that appealed to the blonde.

Yurio ignored Victor's pleading whines and turned to his other mate. “Yuuri… could you come with me? Izzy-sensei said the room isn’t exactly inviting, and it’s not that I’m nervous or anything, but...”

Victor harrumphed, and Yuuri bit back his need to remind Yurio that he too should have seen to Victor wearing a condom… in fact, it was literally Yuuri's job to make sure the presentation had gone well, so he was probably even more at fault than Victor. That certainly wouldn’t help Izzy-sensei get her sample, though.

“Yeah, of course. Victor, we’ll be right back; is that okay?”

Yurio growled. “Of course it’s okay… He doesn’t get a say in this whether he’s our Alpha or our god damn Upsilon.”

Victor nodded and dragged a hand through his silver hair. “Whatever makes you more comfortable, Yura.”

“Damn straight!” Yurio snagged the sample cup off the counter and headed down the hallway, dragging Yuuri behind him by one hand.

Yuuri shrugged helplessly back at his Alpha and tried to avoid tripping on his way to the room Izzy-sensei had suggested.

 Yurio was right… it wasn’t very inviting: essentially just a broom cupboard with a chair in it. Yurio sat down and sighed. “This is so awkward…”

Yuuri felt his lips curve into a half smile. Silly little mate... “It’ll be fine. It’s nothing you haven’t done a thousand times before, Yurio.”

Yurio smirked. “Fair enough.” He beckoned Yuuri over with a hand. “Come here?”

Yuuri stepped between his younger mate’s spread legs and slid his hands into his soft, blonde hair. “Maybe I can make this a little easier for you...” Yuuri had taken to heart their recent conversation in the car, and when he had agreed to be more careful regarding Yurio’s needs, he hadn’t just been placating. “What can I do to help?”

“No dynamics,” Yurio replied immediately, nuzzling his head against Yuuri’s palms and smiling appreciatively. “Just you and me like normal boyfriends.”

Something about the request pleased Yuuri to no end. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had sex and purposely left out the pheromones. Perhaps before he worked as a sweet? In that case, make that never. He’d been a virgin before he presented, so it was possible. Shame about that, but there’s was no going back. Since Yuuri had been expected to present Beta with no required heat or rut, he hadn’t felt the need to learn about his sexual interests ahead of time. Back then, skating had been his whole world.

“Boyfriends, huh?”

Yurio blushed crimson. “Well, yeah… We are, right?”

“We definitely are.” Yuuri replied. He reined in his scent and leaned down to kiss the soft, pink lips smiling up at him, sliding his tongue along the seam to encourage a deeper kiss. “But we are more than just that, you beautiful thing… We are mates.”

A soft sigh escaped Yurio’s lips as they parted to allow Yuuri to play inside. The ex-sweet captured the sound in the kiss and continued the slow, sensual movement of his mouth on his mate’s. Feeling too far away, he slid onto Yurio’s lap and found himself wrapped up in long arms.

The slow, careful ministrations and pillowtalk were working for youth, if the hardness rising under Yuuri’s ass was proof of anything.  “Your pants must be uncomfortable… Should I take them off?”

Yurio stilled the ex-sweet’s hands on his belt. “Yours first,” he said pointedly.

Yuuri laughed. “I don’t think Izzy-sensei is interested in a sample from me…”

A slow, sweet smile slid languidly onto Yurio’s face. “Maybe she’s not, but I am, and I don’t think you understand exactly how arousing it is to see you enjoying yourself. Hell, after watching you get off, it would probably take a feather to get me to follow.”

Yuuri cocked his head to the side, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that his mate seemed to enjoy giving pleasure to him above receiving it. “That’s really what you want?”

“No, that’s what I need. I need to make you feel good. You okay with that?” Yurio slid his fingertips up Yuuri's sides from hips across his rib cage and down over and over again. Goose flesh was springing up as a result, and Yuuri shivered.

“Yeah… yeah, of course I’m okay with that.” Yuuri swallowed harshly and let his forehead fall down to rest on Yurio’s shoulder to hide his reddening cheeks. “So… where do you want me?” 

Yurio chuckled and stroked the dark hair decorated his shoulder. “I think I’m supposed to ask that, but hop off my lap, and sit down on the chair.

Yuuri rose and stepped away for Yurio to rise, and then he took the seat as directed. Yurio wasted no time, reaching to palm him gently through his jeans to be rewarded with a groan of anticipation.

“I can take these off, right?” Yurio asked, tugging at a pocket of the pants.

Yuuri huffed, his eyes heavy-lidded and needy. “You can do whatever you want. You don’t need to ask me… I’ll let you know if you start doing something I don’t like." He lifted his hips to help discard the obstacle-like clothing, and when Yurio tugged them off, he brought the shorts right along with.

“Impatient?”

“Entirely.” Yurio dropped to his knees and took Yuuri’s half-hard length into his mouth, sliding his tongue along the underside.

“Guh…” That sensation combined with the sight of the boy happily sucking on him like a popsicle rendered Yuuri incapable of coherent speech.

Yurio released Yuuri from his mouth with a popping sound and nuzzled the side of the shaft. “I love feeling you firm up in my mouth like that… Shows me how much you like what I’m doing.”

“Yes… like that… Like you,” Yuuri husked out, trying not to buck his hips as Yurio bobbed his head down onto him again. “That’s… you’re incredible.”

Yurio hummed happily at the praise, earning himself a wordless groan from his mate. He began to tilt his head, experimenting with the different angles and pressures he could use to take Yuuri into his mouth.  One such angle had Yurio low to the ground, pulling gently downwards and sucking hard, and Yuuri whimpered and garbled out his name.

“Fuck, Yurio… That’s…”

Yuuri was keenly aware of how sensitive he was from not getting release that morning as compared to his two mates. Every touch of that hot tongue on him was like a lash of silk on fire. He desperately wanted to finish, but he also wanted this innocuous torture to continue forever. Yurio seemed to be truly enjoying the activity, and that lent an additional level or eroticism to the situation. Yuuri slid a hand into his mate’s blonde hair and gripped tightly. Curses continued to spill from his lips as he teetered perilously along the edge.

Yurio began kneading Yuuri’s thighs rhythmically, sucking steadily with hollowed cheeks. He looked so gorgeous like that. Sea green eyes blinking up innocently while his mouth did such dirty things… Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to regain control of himself only to have the loss of sight increase the level of sensation and the sound of Yurio slurping eagerly on his cock. It was too much.

“Yurio, I’m going to…”

The blonde continued his ministrations, happily humming ascent as a haphazard scream wrenched itself from Yuuri’s throat as he came hard. Yurio swallowed greedily and messily, the amount of come threatening and then succeeding to overcome his mouth and spill across his lips and chin.

Yuuri shuddered for a moment, gasping desperately to replace the oxygen in his lungs as Yurio let his slack cock fall from his mouth. Opening his eyes, his first sight was of Yurio cleaning the overflow from his face with his fingertips and depositing it into his mouth.

Yuuri slid to the floor and dragged Yurio into a brutal kiss, simultaneously undoing his belt and trousers with deft, efficient hands. The taste of himself in his mate’s lips made him desperately want to return the favor. Yuuri snatched the sample cup and snapped it open to break the seal before reaching into Yurio’s pants to pull out his swollen, throbbing length. It seemed he really did enjoy Yuuri’s pleasure. Hands rose to grip the sides of the Yuuri’s arms tightly as Yurio’s forehead dropped to Yuuri’s shoulder with a low, wanton moan.

Wrapping a hand around the rock hard cock, Yuuri set a fast, steady rhythm as his mate clutched him desperately. Teeth bit into his shoulder as Yurio failed to swallow a wail and within moments, his release was being caught in the plastic cup.

Yurio collapsed bonelessly onto his mate, breathing heavily, while Yuuri screwed the lid on tightly and set it aside. “Told… you… so…”

Yuuri chuckled and wrapped his mate in his arms, easing them both to the floor.

 

* * *

 

Izzy stood in the main lab with Seung Gil, her old friend and ex-lover, at her side. She looked at the stern-faced man with fondness and let herself remember the different phases of her life and how he took part in them.

They had grown up together in South Korea, playing doctor and house on each other’s rooftops and then progressing all the way to holding hands on the way to school as secret “boyfriend” and “girlfriend” in their last year of junior high. They were inseparable until Izzy’s mother threatened to leave her husband if they didn’t move their family to her hometown in Italy

After finishing high school in Trieste, Izzy traveled to America to complete her university studies and then back to South Korea for her medical studies. She had been utterly surprised to be reunited with Seung Gil when he was two years her senior at Seoul National University. Being both Beta, they never had to deal with the extensive difficulties of presentation at nineteen nor any sort of bonding while they dated. While Seung Gil found this beneficial, Izzy was never happy with what she felt was a lesser connection, and the relationship had fizzled out due to her envy of Alpha/Omega couples. None-the-less, they had remained very close not only because of their past but because of their mutual interest in Dynamics.

Izzy’s father had been devastated to leave his family to live in Trieste and hadn’t done well in the small northern Italian city. When his daughter returned to Seoul for her medical studies at SNU, he had convinced his wife to return with them. While Izzy’s mother had since passed from a heart attack some years prior, Min Jun Yang still resided in the South Korean capital.

Izzy completed her post-doctorate in Dynamics in Tokyo, obtaining her Japanese medical license and then choosing to open a clinic outside of Fukuoka within easy distance of both the Sweetrows in that city and Hasestsu. The more relaxed laws were beneficial, allowing omegas to make personal and medical decisions without consent from their Alphas. It was also much easier to get government funding and private grants to for research in Dynamics. Seung Gil opened a research lab in the area for the same reasons, and they regularly worked together, referred each other patients, and helped each other with different research projects.

While Izzy knew that part of Seung Gil’s motivation for pursuing the field involved attempting to improve the lives of his omegian mother and brother, she often wondered if he took a particular interest in Dynamic Alteration because he hoped he could give Izzy what she always wanted. The man had been overjoyed when she informed him about Yuri… Well, more like mildly pleased, but for Seung Gil that was basically over the moon. Izzy tried not to get her hopes up again.

Returning to the present, she looked across the lab bench to the three mates sitting on stools waiting with bated breath.

“My colleague, Seung Gil,” Izzy gestured, and Seung Gil nodded at them, “And I have taken a look at all of the results of the testing we could complete in an efficient amount of time…”

Yuri knotted his hands together, but the other two showed no sign of anxiety. Katsuki-san was well-trained, and Victor was an alpha, so Izzy supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. It was still a little unnerving to see them so calm when she herself was nearly trembling with excitement.

“Let me give you a quick run-down and then we’ll talk about Yuri,” Izzy began. “Simply put, secondary gender biomechanics can be partially described similar to blood types. Omegian DNA and alphan DNA have contrasting antigens and antibodies. It’s why you could never have blood transfusions from the opposing dynamic. The genes that control this system essentially “turn on” during presentations and remain on over the course of a person’s life. Those genes also control the various hormones, pheromones, and neurotransmitters you produce. And all of those signaling molecules manifest physically, mentally, and emotionally as your dynamic.”

Victor cocked his head to the side, trying to process the information. Yuuri nodded, already familiar with the vast majority of basic Dynamics from his required study as a sweetworker.

Yuri asked a question: “What about betas?”

Ah, she had an answer for that. “Betas, like myself and Seung Gil here, have genes that never turn on, or turn on but produce signaling molecules to a much lesser degree than alphas or omegas. Essentially, betas are all on either the alphan or omegian scale. We produce the same hormones and what not, just not enough to actually manifest symptoms of the dynamic. Seung Gil and I have run tests on thousands of betas, and that has always been the case. More often than not, it’s the omegian genes that are turned on. This is likely why you see Alpha/Beta pairings fairly often, but Beta/Omega couples are more rare.”

“So… Yurio…” Yuuri lead on.

“Frankly put, Yuri,” Seung Gil jumped in, “You’re a complete anomaly. You have both sets of antigens and no antibodies. In other words you’re the “AB” bloodtype of secondary genders. There are two possibilities that might be happening: either both sets of genes are turned on continuously and you are manifesting the one you’re expressing to a greater degree; or you are turning one off and the other on when you switch dynamics.” A small smile played at his lips, and Izzy could tell her friend was extremely pleased by the breakthrough in his research. Facial expressions displaying anything other than concentration or annoyance were rare on Seung Gil. He really _was_ excited.

“So how do I change it back that way? Why did the level of expression change at all?” Yuri asked, his brow furrowed. Izzy nodded sympathetically. It sucked that science could sometimes only provide the base level of information while leaving the rest obscured. Likely the knowledge she provided from her research was just going to leave the youth even more confused than he was now. None-the-less, Izzy’s companion plowed ahead, both providing what he knew to the best of his ability and admitting with candor what he wasn’t yet privy to.

“We don’t know that yet. We’re not even sure which option is more likely, but we should be able to get some more data to push us in the right direction… it’s just that those tests’ll take a good amount of time. Right now, we just know that you have definitively expressed both sets of genes, and the resultant signaling molecules for both are still present in your blood. Since you were Alpha so recently, we don’t know if you’re still producing alphan signaling molecules, or if they just haven’t decomposed in your blood yet.” Seung Gil replied, clearly displeased with the lack of specificity of his answer, but looking nearly hopeful about future information presenting itself. “If you don’t switch again in the next week, we can use a new blood sample to pinpoint which one of those options might actually be the case here.”

Yuri groaned and muttered something about Izzy and Seung Gil being vampires, closing his hand over the crook of his elbow where Izzy had previously drawn blood. Izzy stifled a chuckle.

Seung Gil ignored the remark entirely and added one more comment: “There is one matter we can shed light on with complete assurance. I’m not sure how you’ll receive this, so please brace yourself.”

Yuri leaned back into Katsuki’s arms and visibly steeled his resolve.

Seung Gil looked to Izzy for her to take the lead, and she sighed. As Yuri's physician, it was her responsibility to give him the medical report. She decided not to beat around the bush. “Yuri, your system of alternating hormones makes it impossible for you to carry a child. Your body can never develop a womb. As an omega, you are sterile.”

Izzy waited to see pained emotion develop on the youth’s face like other infertile omegas before him, but relief quickly enveloped the boy’s whole form.  Very unusual… Omegas felt the natural urge to breed. Even if they didn’t need to do it immediately, the sudden knowledge that producing offspring was impossible always destroyed their equilibriums. It was a big hit to their psyches. Or not… Izzy filed away that piece of information into her memory; perhaps, Yuri’s instincts were less confining to him than other omegas?”

 “Okay. So I can’t be pregnant right now,” the boy said, glancing back at Victor. “Good. Great… You’re off the hook, Vitya, you lucky bastard.” Then he turned back to Izzy to ask another question. Victor looked visibly relieved.

“What about as an alpha? Could I get Yuuri pregnant if I wanted to?”

Katsuki-san turned beet red and tightened his grip on his younger mate.

“We don’t know that either… Right now, excuse the euphemism, but you’re shooting blanks, because your omegian genes are being expressed. If your alphan genes were being expressed right now, then we could test that… Is that something you would be interested in?”

“I don’t know; I’m just trying to get a grasp on exactly how all this defines me. So, I’m what? A hybrid?” Yuri asked, squeezing Katsuki’s hands back.

“No. Your genetic code has a mutation that permits you to either switch back and forth between the secondary genders or to change the level of expression of the relevant genes,” Seung Gil clarified. “It may even be possible for you to reduce the level of omegian gene action to manifest as Beta. We don’t know… there’s just no other information on this except you.”

“Wait, I’m a mutant?”

“It’s best not to think of it like that I—” Izzy started, but Yuri interrupted her with a gleeful expression.

“That is so. Damn. Cool.” He gushed with a wide, toothy grin. “I could totally join the X-men.”

_Well, if that’s what works…_

“All right yeah, let’s think of it like that. Yuri, you may be the first of an evolved human. Like an amphibian, you may be able to change your secondary gender according to necessity or even by will. We just don’t know yet.”

“I wonder if my mutation gives me any other abilities…” Yuri mused to himself, “I’m not sure just being able to change dynamics would be enough to draw Professor X’s attention.”

Victor chuckled and ruffled Yuri’s hair. “You always have had one foot edging into the Marvel Universe, Yura, so I guess this makes sense. You could be like Squirrel Girl. You’re both incredibly snarky and have seemingly useless powers.”

Katsuki reached out for Victor’s other hand. The two of them exchange amused, but slightly relieved looks. Izzy could relate; she too was happy that Yuri was taking the news well.

Yuri continued his conversation with his older mate. “I’ll have you know that it’s surprisingly effective when a giant horde of squirrels descends upon you. Squirrel Girl is freaking bad ass.”

“She talks to squirrels, right?” Katsuki asked Victor out of the corner of his mouth.

“Her name is Squirrel Girl, Yuuri,” Yuri answered instead. “Of course she talks to squirrels. It would completely illogical and ridiculous to think that she actually turns into a squirrel.”

“Right…” Izzy interjected with a grin… “That would be just crazy. Do you let me know if you find you can talk to any particular animals. It would be helpful for my research.”

“Getting back to our research,” Seung Gil interrupted pointedly… “These results are fascinating. All this time we’ve been thinking that dynamics are governed by genes that exist independently leading to physical traits that are instilled at presentation, but it seems that’s not the case. Each of us has the whole set of genes and environmental factors may have an effect on what people present as.”

Izzy nodded, her eyes glittering. "Yuri, if we could find out what makes you change, we could we design better drugs for omegas and alphas to manage their seasonal episodes and breakthrough hormones. We could even publish information regarding how omegas and alphas are effectively all on one spectrum dependent on reversible gene expression. Do you understand what that means?” Her voice gained momentum and volume as excitement boiled into her speech. She clenched her hands into fists and bounced on the balls of her feet.

“No, you’ve completely lost me…” Victor sighed. Izzy deflated slightly. Ok, so it was really complicated. She couldn’t expect people without a genetics background to really understand her elation.

“People would have to understand that the three dynamics are actually just on one spectrum,” Katsuki sounded out slowly, completely ignoring his Alpha. Izzy whipped her attention back to him, glee returning.

“Yes,” Seung Gil agreed, a tiny tinge of fever in his dark eyes. “At that point, the laws discriminating against omegas would no longer make any sense even for the staunchest of supporters.”

“That’s great and all,” Yuri said, bringing everyone back to the task at hand, “Not that I’m not super excited about improving lives for omegas, understand, but what do I do right now?”

Izzy decided to take blood samples from both Victor and Katsuki-san, just to make sure everything was routine for them. “I want you to all keep logs of anything unusual that happens… Your bond is also of great interest to us, and we want to know if anything changes with it.” She gave them both her and Seung Gil’s private cell phone numbers, and they agreed to contact her regularly.

“Is there any way you can file on his paperwork that he’s Alpha?” Victor asked, suddenly.

Izzy paused and considered it, looking to Seung Gil for guidance.

“He did originally manifest as Alpha, and he still has the hormones in his blood… But we don’t actually know if he’ll ever switch back,” he hedged.

“It’s just that it would really help keep him competing while we figure all this out,” Victor explained, imploringly. “Please, Dr. Yang… I’ll take responsibility for any fall-out, should anything happen. We can say that when we went to see you, he _was_ Alpha.” He was pleading with her. Izzy wasn’t used to this sort of behavior from an alpha. It was confusing her.

“I don’t think I can risk my license like that,” she replied softly, great displeasure underlying her every word. She wanted to help them, she did!

“Victor, don’t ask her to do that!” Yuri scolded. “We can just use one of our Russian contacts to take care of it. We can get the paperwork from one of the counterfeit offices there without a second thought!”

Victor startled and looked at his younger mate. “Yes…. Yes, of course you’re right, Yura.” He turned back to Izzy. “I sincerely apologize; it was completely repugnant of me to ask you for that. Please, forget it ever happened.”

Izzy shook her head, waving off the apology, just relieved to be off the hook. She was a little concerned about the criminal aspect of getting forged papers, but her name wouldn’t be attached to it. She just hoped her patient and his mates would be okay.

In the end, Yuri received the paperwork for a clean bill of health for his post-presentation appointment. Izzy left blank the line for presented dynamic. She photocopied the papers and purposely left a dark blotch over that part of the page, making it look like an accident.

On their way out the door, Katsuki thanked her and Seung Gil profusely, bowing over and over again. Izzy blushed. “No… No, Katsuki-kun, _thank you all_. Yuri could be the break-through in our research… the lynchpin we’ve been seeking for so long.”

“Glad to be of service,” Yuri sassed. Victor smacked at him lightly, but the youth ducked. “All right, all right. Thank you for taking care of me. I appreciate everything. Really.” He rubbed the back of his head with a hand, staring at the ground and scuffing one of his toes against the concrete. Sometimes Izzy forgot how young people really were when they presented.

She smiled. “You’re welcome, Yuri.”

After the three left, Izzy took a seat beside Seung Gil at his desk facing the wall of posted data sheets. “We found him…” she said slowly.

“No,” he countered, wrapping his arm around Izzy and rubbing her arm softly. “You did. You found the kid who can help us set the system straight.”

Izzy leaned in to his embrace, familiar with the casual affection from her friend when they were in private. “You know that most of my involvement in this research is for selfish reasons…”

“Does it matter if in the end it helps people anyway?” Seung Gil asked, sighing. “At least, that’s what I tell myself… You’re not the only one with some self-centered motives. Well, I suppose mine are more Isabella-centered, but for me that’s really the same thing.” He dropped his arm away from her.

“Seung Gil… I can’t…”

“I know,” he interrupted swiftly. “Don’t worry about it. I do truly find this research fascinating. I honestly want to help my mother, brother, and all of the other omegas in unfortunate situations due to bunk science.” Seung Gil let his head fall to rest his temple on Izzy’s shoulder.

“But if finding a way to get you what you want and make you happy ties right in to those aims; well, let’s just say it’s not going to hurt anything.”

Izzy stayed silent, reaching up a hand and stroking her fingers through the raven hair at the nape of his neck.

_I am so sorry, Seung Gil. But maybe… maybe when we figure this all out… Dammit…_

She couldn’t say it out loud. She couldn’t give him hope when there might never be a chance. Izzy wanted to have that intense connection to another human being. She wanted to change her dynamic; but at a minimum, as she was now, she had to be in a relationship with an alpha. She’d checked their DNA, and both she and Seung Gil had activated omegian genes. It was to be expected, being the more common condition. Regret spiraled through Izzy, leaving her with a stomachache and watery eyes.

Seung Gil stood abruptly. “Let’s get food. I know you skipped lunch.” He held out a hand to his ex-lover, kindly ignoring the dampness clinging to her eye lashes.

He was so damn dependable. Izzy really hoped someday soon Seung Gil would find someone who would appreciate him for the amazing person that he honestly was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made Izzy Italian/Korean based on her names. Yeah, I know she's more likely to be Chinese than Korean, but it worked with the way the story wanted to go. My Isabella is fluent in many a language: Korean, English, Italian, and Japanese. Thus, she was able to get her medical license in Japanese by passing the board exams. Apparently, Seung Gil wanted to be in this story and cause some angst.
> 
> So those of you in the sciences, I apologize for mutilating biology and genetics. If any of you lot have some suggestions to make the scientific explanations more plausible, please let me know. Unfortunately in pharmacy and medicine, most of the time our answers to why certain things happen in the body are something like “uh cuz maybe reasons, we don’t really know, but this works for some reason… so yeah go with it.”
> 
> If the characters actually start delving into drug discovery and come up with new meds, it's bound to get pretty interesting. Since that's my field, I'll be able to cut it down to the basics and still make it possible given the rules of this universe. Probably. No promises.
> 
> Love you guys! It's time to head to Russia!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting to the plane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heys guys, the story is starting to spiral into something even more interesting than I expected, so all of you and I will just have to see what happens! Please enjoy the new chapter!

 “It was a good idea to pack our bags into the car before coming here, Yuuri,” Victor complimented. “Since we’re already near Fukuoka, we might actually make it onto our flight!” Victor was fairly calm about the whole ordeal. If they missed the flight to Seoul, they could just catch the next one. Of course, that wasn’t until the next day, and Yura really needed to get back to training. It took a hop, skip, and a jump to get back to their home rink, needing to stop in both Seoul and Moscow on the way to St. Petersburg.

“We can’t miss it!” Yuuri cried, beginning to worry at his lower lip while he glanced quickly into his various mirrors to change lanes. “You might have to pay for new tickets!”

Victor waved off the concern. “No matter. What’s important is that we all get there safely.”

Yura leaned forward so he could see Victor’s face. “That was actually a pretty cool statement, Vitya.”

“Thank you; I like to think that sometimes I’m actually cool.”

“Rarely,” the youth sassed back

“Once in a while.”

“Once in a great while.”

“Quit it, I’m trying to drive,” Yuuri growled.

“Sorry, Yuuri…” Victor consoled. When Yura leaned back to sit properly in his seat, Victor turned around to keep talking to him.

“Our plane follows the same route that it did on our way here, so we won’t be able to get off the plane in Seoul before it takes off again. They do the customs in-plane. Make sure you have everything you want for the 10 hour flight to Russia.”

Yura raised his arms and crossed them behind his headrest, getting more comfortable. “Yeah, yeah. If we have time, we should stop at one of the convenience shops in the airport.”

“Things in airport shops are expensive,” Yuuri muttered, taking the turn onto the highway.

Yura bit his lower lip, and his eyes glittered as he held in a laugh. Victor smiled back. Their mate was adorable. It wasn’t that Victor enjoyed throwing around money recklessly. After all, he wouldn’t have saved such a tidy sum if that was his way. Simply put, he had carefully saved and invested his money and, at this point, just didn’t need to be quite as abstemious as he was in his youth. If something made him or people he cared about happy, he would gladly pay for it. Still, sometimes he found himself checking groceries at the shop to find the less expensive option, and he always picked things that were on sale. Old habits die hard.

“Yuuri,” the blonde said after he composed himself, “You don’t need to worry about little things like money… Vitya and I have plenty. Even if I were to stop skating, and he were so stop coaching, we’d all be fine for a good long while.”

“Actually, we’d probably be fine for the rest of our lives… We’d just have to do a couple more of those modeling shoots for advertisements. I keep receiving interest from various companies, especially since you grew taller.” Victor added. Really, it was getting overwhelming how many calls and e-mails he received asking for Yura to endorse their products. He’d mostly stopped telling the boy about them to avoid growing his already overly large ego.

“You do modeling?” Yuuri asked, not specifying a recipient for his question.

“Mmm.” The silver-haired man replied. “Yura has mostly taken my place in clothing ads and whatnot since he stopped looking like a fifteen year-old girl a couple of years ago. Before that they had him doing ads with less sex appeal involved.”

“I resent that but don’t deny it,” the blonde scoffed. “So sue me, my youth and beauty are popular, and you’re old now.”

Victor retaliated easily. “Uh huh. I was still named the most attractive man in the figure skating scene this year… Who else is in that scene? Ah, right. You.”

“For the love of… dammit you two, I will seriously pull over if you keep fighting!”

“Sorry, Yuuri…” Victor and Yura soothed together. Then they smirked at each other. Yuuri didn’t quite understand their major method of communication yet. Neither of them were ever really hurt by the sarcastic insults they slung, but if it made their mate uncomfortable, they could try to curb the habit for a little while. Probably. Maybe.

Yuuri waved a hand back listlessly, watching the road signs. “Just to let you know, I expect to contribute to our finances in some way. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to make money, what with being an omega and not doing sweetwork anymore, but I’ll figure something out. And I’m going to pay you back for part of my fees from leaving Yutopia, Victor; I have savings.”

Victor frowned. He could see if he could get Yuuri a job at the rink, but honestly, they probably wouldn’t want to hire him even if he was Yura’s mate. He would check the openings later and see if anything was suitable. Maybe something with kids...

“Yuuri, it doesn’t make sense for you to give me money for that… As mates, most of our funds will be pooled anyway. We’ll keep our separate bank accounts, too, but as soon as I can, I’m going to open a joint account between the three of us. You can put the funds in there if you want.”

The raven looked for a moment like he was going to retort, but in the end his sighed and nodded. “If that’s what you think is best, Alpha.”

“Why can’t _you_ respond like that when I tell you something rational?” Victor instigated, looking back at Yuri.

“Because I’m not just some omega, Vitya, responding automatically to you because of my instincts. I’m a mutant, remember? Also usually the things you tell me aren’t rational, so agreeing to your commands isn’t logical.”

Victor froze and glanced over at Yuuri. The omega had stiffened, but otherwise was showing no other outward sign that he was bothered by his younger mate’s comment.

Yura followed Victor’s eyes to where they were firmly fixed on their driver. A look of understanding crossed his face before being swiftly replaced with wide eyes full of horror. “Shit, Yuuri, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that! I just don’t respond like an omega, because I don’t have the history that you do. And apparently I have whack genes on top of that… Vitya, help me. Tell him I didn’t mean anything by that stupid “just omega” comment.”

“It’s fine,” Yuuri sighed, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.  “I know you didn’t say that to put down me or omegas in general. You currently are one, after all. It’s just that that sort of phrasing is common in our society. Everyone unconsciously insults omegas, and it’s the norm. Most people don’t even notice it anymore.”

“I’m sorry…” The blonde repeated, regret and guilt transparent on his face. “I’ll work on it, really! Ahh… I want to crawl into a hole…”

“I know, Yurio… And Victor, don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to antagonize him again there.”

Victor felt his cheeks heat up. Right, he was supposed to avoid bickering with Yura…

“Anyway, we’re nearly at the airport,” Yuuri continued. “I’m just going to park in short-term parking, because Yuko will send someone to collect the car later today. You two make sure you have everything before we leave.”

 

* * *

 

After checking into their flight and giving their bags to the required airline agent, they waited through security tapping their feet and glancing at the clock. Then they waited through immigration while glaring at people and pacing in tiny circles or snapping at the red strap that kept them in line.

Finally, Yuri couldn’t take it anymore. The air smelled like stale sweat and exhaustion, and it was stressing him out.“For the love of all that is holy, can’t you people move any faster!?” He shouted. “This is the least efficient—Mmmph!!”

Victor grabbed him and smashed both of his hands over the youth’s mouth.  It wasn’t fast enough. The people around them were tittering unhappily, and a burly security guard swiftly made his way over.

“What’s going on? What are you yelling about?”

Victor slid his hands off of Yuri’s face and held out the three boarding passes for the guard to check. “Sorry, Sir. My friend here is just a little impatient. He’s worried we’re going to miss our flight.”

_That freaking silver-haired bastard. I am going to kick him so hard once we got out of here._

The dark-haired guard took the passes and read over them. “Honestly, you probably are. The line is moving at a normal pace, but you need to get on the flight before they close the flight doors. You should have gotten here earlier.”

“Ah… we had something to take care of…” Yuuri said softly, stepping out from where he had been hidden behind Victor. “I’m sorry about that… We had to go to the clinic you see.” His voice sounded like music. Yuri saw Victor’s ears prick… and the security guard looked up immediately to see the omega.

“Eros?” The guard whispered.

“Mmm. It’s nice to see you again, Koyanagi-san.” Yuuri continued to speak in the same quiet, enthralling voice. Yuri felt it melt over him like butter. “You haven’t been by recently. I was starting to think you’d bonded someone.”

The omega took two steps forward until he was right next to the guard, pressed against the red strap that lined the waiting lanes. His movements were smooth and easy, almost as if he were gliding across ice rather than simply walking.

“No, not me; just visiting my sister. Instead, you’ve… you’ve been bonded,” Koyanagi stuttered, eyes darting between Yuuri and Yuri’s throats. He took off his cap and fanned himself with it. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to see you… at your work anymore.

“Ah, yes… My mate is a bit young, Alpha; please forgive him for his indecent behavior.” Yuuri tilted his head to the side lightly and held out a hand as if to shake the guard’s. Yuri knew what he was actually doing: letting a flow of pheromones escape from his skin with his scent. “It’s time for me to move on, after all. He really is lovely.” The ex-sweet sent a quick loving glance to Yuri. He let it sweep across Victor as well; fortunately, the guard didn’t seem to notice.

“Right… You’re well, then? Happy?” Koyanagi took Yuuri’s hand in both of his own, rubbing gently at the omega’s inner wrist with a thumb: a typical greeting for an alpha to an omega with whom he was very familiar. His eyes were a bit more heavily lidded than a few minutes earlier. He looked peaceful, calmed. No less alert, just more at ease.

Yuri felt a sudden painfully sharp and blinding wave of displeasure, but it faded almost instantly, and the world seemed a bit clearer. He shook it off and continued to watch Yuuri carefully, trying to memorize his mate’s actions and wondering if he could ever be good enough to make use of the so-called omegian wiles. Victor on the other hand, was looking away, his hands tightly fisted in his pockets. He appeared to be chewing on the inside of his cheek and forcibly keeping himself from snatching Yuuri’s hand away from the other alpha.

“Yes, I’m very well. I would be much happier if we could make this flight, though. I know it’s all my fault for getting detained and not arriving early enough, but—”

“Nonsense,” said the guard. “You can’t miss your flight. Not you.” He unclasped the red strap and held it back for Yuuri and his mates to come across. “I’ll take you through the staff and crew line.”

Yuuri smiled and thanked Koyanagi. His expression made Yuri’s heart ache with love. Victor looked like he wanted to cry. Impulsively, the youth reached out and grabbed his older mate’s hand, tugging for attention. Yuuri and Koyanagi were walking in front of them and didn’t notice.

“Hey… Vitya, you okay?”

“I want to kill him,” the alpha gritted out. “He’s too close to one of my omegas. I want to put him through the floor, and I can’t, because Yuuri’s not supposed to be my mate. That guy’s previously been with one of my omegas, and he’s touched him again, and I have to stand back here and pretend that there’s nothing wrong.”

Yuri paled. Probably because of his dynamic, he wasn’t having the same desperate jealous attack that was hitting Victor. He was glad for that; it looked rough. Time for a bit of tough love…

“Well, you’re doing a piss poor job of hiding it. You smell like a walking death threat; although, it seems to be getting better now... Get it together, Vitya,” Yuri growled. “Yuuri is doing us a favor, and so it this security guard. When we get through, say thank you, and then you can drag Yuuri and me into a bathroom or something.” He stroked his mate’s hand to soften the blow of his words.

“Right. Got it.” Victor paled, but he squeezed Yuri’s hand once and then pulled away. “And you need to go act like his alpha, not my omega. Go on, go!”

Yuri nodded and hurried to place himself at the raven’s side. Yuuri was talking in the same hushed tones to the guard.

“Koyanagi-san, how is your sister? She should have just presented, yes? Has she come to decide whether she’ll stay in your hometown in the East for university?”

“She did. Beta, fortunately. She’s very happy. And _I’m_ happy she decided on Fukuoka for university, so she’ll be living at home with me. I’ve been caring for her since our folks passed away, you know; so it’s almost like she’s my daughter. I’m very proud.” The man approached the front of the crew line and spoke briefly to the man running that immigration booth. The clerk glanced up at Yuri and his mates and nodded, waving them over.

Koyanagi returned to them, smiling. “You can go through now; I’ve taken care of it. I’m glad I got to see you before you left, Eros.” Then he turned to Yuri. “Congratulations on your bonding. Eros is… amazing. I was very lucky to have met him.”

It was poor manners to discuss previous sexual activity with someone else’s mate, so it wasn’t surprising that Koyanagi glossed over his visits to Yutopia. Yuri deemed it an appropriate comment, but he felt intensely curious as to how close his mate was to the alpha. Was this man special to Yuuri when he worked at the sugarhouse? Or was it common practice for sweets to memorize facts about all of their patrons?

“Thank you,” Yuri replied. “For your kind words and your help in making it onto our flight. Yes, he is incredible, and I intend to cherish him.” He shook the guard’s hand firmly, and Koyanagi seemed pleased.

Yuuri smiled happily from the side, taking a hold of Yuri’s unoccupied arm and leaning his head on the youth’s shoulder. He thanked Koyanagi in his gentle, melodious voice.

“Well, we’d best get going…” Victor interjected, guiding his mates over to the booth. It only took a few moments to get through immigration, and soon they found themselves on the other side of the barriers.

After a speed round of shopping which resulted in the purchase sandwiches, bottles of water, and a rather unnecessary amount of chocolate, the three mates found themselves bolting for gate I-50.

“Why… is it… always like the… LAST. FUCKING. GATE!” Yuri panted out while racing through the terminal, his mates just ahead of him.

“Hey… These gates… go up to… at least 57…” Yuuri gasped.

With his longer legs, Victor was leading the team. “You should really have better stamina than this, Yura. Both Yuuri and I are beating you!”

“Shut up, Vitya,” Yuri hissed between breaths, increasing his pace until he was beside the older man. They continued in mock competition until a voice interrupted them.

“Victor…” Yuuri called out, and Yuri noticed the omega had fallen behind. It didn’t look like he was getting tired, though. It looked like he was getting… heated.

Victor stopped abruptly and then sprinted back to his omega’s side. “Oh, Yuuri…” He crooned, pulling the raven tight to his chest. Yuuri immediately smashed his nose into the Russian’s throat, breathing a few quick inhales and then a sigh of relief. “Better?” Victor asked.

“Yeah… Yeah.” Yuuri huffed out, pulling away reluctantly. “I thought I’d make it until we made it to the plane, but it seems those few minutes of shopping were too much. I’ll be fine until we get on the plane now.” He frowned and ducked his head to hide his face, cheeks flushed from more than exertion.

Victor placed Yuuri’s hand in Yuri’s. “You keep hold of him until we get on there. It’s too public for me to do it. Come on.” It visibly pained Victor to let go of Yuuri’s hand, but he managed, turning away in one sharp motion.

With that, the Alpha took off again, his omegas at his heels.

They made it to the gate just as the attendant was beginning to close the doors.

She stopped when she saw them racing up to her. Yuri bent over, resting his hands on his knees and desperately trying to refill the oxygen in his lungs.

“Let me guess… Katuski-san and Misters Nikiforov and Plisetsky?”

Victor nodded, leaning against the desk, also breathing heavily. He pulled the boarding passes out his jacket and handed them to the woman.

“Where have you been?” she hissed. Then she seemed to reconsider and adopted a patented customer service tone. “Nevermind. Please, come aboard.”

After hustling them on, the flight attendants quickly prepared for take-off.

The three mates had a row to themselves: the last row in first class. Yuri chose the window, putting Yuuri in the middle, and Victor on the aisle.

The ex-sweet snuggled up to Victor. “Promise I’ll pay attention to you on the next flight, Yurio… I just need... for a minute…” He wrapped himself in the alpha’s arm and burrowed his nose into his wrist. Victor gently eased his hand away from Yuuri’s face so he could tighten his grip around the omega’s waist. At Yuuri’s whine of displeasure, he gave the raven his other wrist to nuzzle.

“What’s going on?” Yuri mouthed above Yuuri’s bowed head.

“He’s getting backlash for his display with that other Alpha. And from my unfortunate reaction to it.” Victor answered, his mouth twisting into a grimace and eye brows furrowing.

“Display?”

“He acted like an unbonded omega when I was right next to him… letting that guy touch him, calling him Alpha without my express permission. He acted like a sweet. But, he’s neither. I’m his Alpha, and now he’s going to hurt until I tell his inner omega that we’re okay, and I’m not mad at him.”

“You’re _not_ mad, right?”

“Of course not, my inner alpha might have been flipping out, desperate to claim him, but I’m happy with what he did. He got us on the plane, after all. The problem is: until you told me to quit it, I was letting out very unhappy pheromones… and unconsciously, they were directed at him.” Victor looked away, seeming unable to meet Yuri’s eyes, and he raised his hand to stroke Yuuri’s hair, guiding the ex-sweet’s face to his throat. “I’m surprised he actually made it so long without breaking down…”

“You _idiot_ ,” Yuri scolded. “You didn’t think to control your damn Alpha out there?”

“I feel bad enough about it already,” Victor snapped back.

The younger Russian paused. It was rare for one of his comments to actually get through to his coach… This must really be bothering Victor.

“Hey, try and calm down… I can almost hear your heart beat from over here, and it’s setting me on edge… Like… I want to sooth you or something.”

Yuuri mumbled something in a whining voice that Yuri assumed was concurring with his own statement. The omega pulled away from Victor far enough to make himself barely audible.

“Not your fault… Alpha. S’mine. M’bad omega. Shouldn’of done that… in front’v you withou’asking. M’stupid…”

Yuri scowled and without a first thought, let alone a second, he yanked his mate away from their Alpha and to himself. Yuuri let out a yip as he collided with the blonde’s chest. He immediately made an attempt to make himself as small as possible.

“Now you stop that!” Yuri chastised firmly. “You are a good omega. You did a good thing. And you were amazing, and sexy and brilliant while you were doing it! Did you see how much that alpha appreciated you from whatever relationship you had in the past?”

Yuuri’s eyes narrowed. “Not my Alpha,” he spat out.

“Precisely,” Yuri replied, rolling his eyes. “You know that. I know that. And Vitya knows that. We all know who you belong to, so quit beating yourself up about it. And your damn inner omega better listen to me, too. You’re ours. Nothing you say or do will ever change that.”

Yuuri nodded slowly… Unfolding himself from the ball in to which he had surely been attempting to transfigure himself. He was staring at Yuri, a puzzled expression developing on his face.

“Say Yura, you’ve been really… outspoken lately. Like you were before we came to Japan.” Victor noted. Then something seemed to click in his mind. “Hey… are you able to read my pheromones right now? Can you understand the scent I’m putting off?”

Yuri took a deep inhale and started. No… He couldn’t… He could smell Victor and Yuuri’s scents, but he couldn’t identify any emotions in them. He could vaguely feel Victor’s Alpha, but it wasn’t bearing down on him like it had been since he presented Omega.

“No… No, I don’t think I’ve been able to read you for a little while now. I’ve just been going off of body language, I guess. I should have been able to smell how irritated you were, but I didn’t actually catch anything like that. I would have told you to stop exuding those angry pheromones.” Yuri spoke slowly, trying to comprehend what he was saying.

“Huh...” His coach said wonderingly. "I thought it was odd that I didn’t feel you as strongly through the bond. Yuuri, call Izzy-sensei when we land. I believe Yura is manifesting as Beta now.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Airport layovers... so fun...I

“What does it feel like?” Yuuri asked Yurio. He was fully enjoying sitting between his two mates: legs slung across Victor’s lap as he reclined into the youth’s embrace. Victor was napping, his head tipped against the side of the headrest and his mouth slack. Yurio supported Yuuri with his arms and cradled the raven’s head in the crook of his elbow. He looked down at his mate and hummed softly.

“Being Beta, you mean?”

Yuuri nodded. He was intensely curious to know how it would have been if he had manifested Beta as expected.

“Like… well, kind of like nothing. It’s weird. Since last night, I’ve been constantly bombarded with scents and pheromones and my own inner dynamics yelling or pouting or whining at me. Now, I can still smell your scent, and believe me, it’s still a draw, but the pull isn’t as strong.” Yurio tilted his head to the side in thought. “It’s kind of freeing, but at the same time, it’s kind of empty. Especially since I feel you and Vitya less strongly through the marks now.”

Yuuri nodded, having expected a response something like that.  He’d spent plenty of time learning what he could about the center dynamic; generally, high school students were required to write research papers about their expected dynamic. Yuuri had been no exception. More data was available on betas due to their higher prevalence, but of course, no one could speak comparatively about the differences between the dynamics first-hand.

He asked the question that he’d always wondered about, but never had a source to ask: “You’ve been all three now… which do you prefer?”

The youth tipped his head back against the seat and looked to the low ceiling, staring at the call button, light, and air spout. “I don’t know… I don’t like not being able to feel you as clearly. But it’s like a ton of distractions are gone; it’s so easy to focus now compared to earlier. It feels like the definition has been turned up on my vision now that my sense of smell and dynamic bonding sensation are dulled. I didn’t notice before that so much was going on in my head that it made it cloudy; now that’s it uncluttered, I almost feel like I was visually blinded before. I don’t know which option of blindness I prefer…”

“Any idea when you switched?” Yuuri asked, fingering the buttons on the blonde’s open jacket.

Yurio’s forehead scrunched together for a moment, and his mouth curled, thinking. Then his eyes opened wide. “Yes! I think so, actually.” His voice was gleeful, and Yuuri couldn’t help by chuckle.

_He’s so proud of figuring something out…_

“When you were talking to your ex-patron, I had this weird sort of jealous pang. It hurt, but it was gone in a second, so I didn’t think much of it at the time… but that’s when I noticed Vitya being all upset without actually being able to feel it.”

Yuuri eased his legs off of Victor and out of the aisle before sitting up in his own seat, keeping one the side of one leg flush against the older Russian’s thigh. “So something similar to that headache you had last time, but to a far kinder degree?”

Yurio helped him get resituated without disturbing Victor. “Maybe,” he replied, shrugging. “But there’s really no comparison. That first thing was freaking awful…”

The ex-sweet nodded, sliding an arm around Yurio’s and clutching it to his chest before leaning his head on the boy’s shoulder. Yuuri was still feeling a bit fragile after disobeying his omega earlier. Being flirtatious with his ex-patron in front of his Alpha had been useful, but he was paying for it. Now he finally understood the truth behind why bonded Omegas couldn’t work as sweets. _It’s not just because the alpha doesn’t like it, it’s because it makes you want to kill yourself because of the guilt… And I didn’t even do anything wrong!_

Yurio reached to stroke his fingers through Yuuri’s hair, gently massaging his scalp. “Soft…Pretty…” he murmured.

The raven turned his head and smiled into his mate’s skin. Having Yurio dote on him was definitely helping, though. The youth had originally suggested that he and Victor take a moment together in the first class lavatory, but Victor had vehemently disagreed. If Yurio couldn’t fit in there as well, he wouldn’t hear of it. Because of his inability to reclaim his Omegas ( _Well, Omega and Beta, now_ , Yuuri amended), Victor had still been on edge. He decide to try to sleep through the short flight until they arrived in Seoul.

“I’ll feel better after I sleep. Just do me a favor and keep touching me for a while during my nap, please, Yuuri.” Victor sounded like he knew what he was talking about, so Yuuri had slung his legs over Victor’s lap for the greatest surface contact and settled down to relax.

Honestly, Yuuri _had_ wanted Victor to lay claim on his again… Victor’s denial almost felt like being rejected right after he had displeased his Alpha, but the man had kissed him deeply and sucked on his bonding mark for a moment. While rubbing the insides of Yuuri’s wrists, Victor had repeated praises over and over: Yuuri was good Omega; Alpha was proud of him; he had done so well. Aside from a knot, it was exactly what Yuuri needed, and he found himself once again feeling fortuitous to have found such an experienced alpha.

Having Yurio coddle him was the cherry on top, and Yuuri was feeling much better than earlier.

After the plane had been in the air for an hour and some, the captain came on the intercom to announce they would be landing soon, so guests should kindly make sure their seatbelts were tightly fastened and put their tray tables up and seatbacks in their full upright positions.

Yuuri let go of his younger mate and gently shook Victor awake. The alpha’s bright blue eyes blinked open slowly, and then he smiled at Yuuri, gold flickering through the blue. He wasn’t quite reset then, it seemed. The next flight would probably be a long one for him.

“We’ve arrived?” Victor asked.

“Nearly,” Yurio answered. “The captain said we should be touching down in a minute so you have to put your seat up.”

The silver-haired man quickly did so; Yuuri fastened his seatbelt; and they all settled in for the few minutes it took for the Captain to take them down to a smooth landing.

After the landing gear hit the ground, a flight attendant came on the intercom. “There has been a change in the flights for the evening. Customs can no longer be conducted on this plane, and passengers connecting to Moscow should go through customs and then find their ways to gate 136 to board their flight in 5 hours. Checked luggage will be transferred automatically. We apologize for the delay and encourage those effected to make complimentary use of the Korean Air lounge. Thank you all for flying Korean Air, we know that you have many options when choosing….”

Yuuri zoned the woman out. “Will we make our next flight with this delay?”

Victor gave an unconcerned smile. “Probably not, but it doesn’t matter. This happens fairly often, and it isn’t our fault. Flights fly from Moscow to St. Petersburg nearly every hour, so they’ll just put us on the next one. We’ll be fine.”

Yuuri wondered if he would always be amazed by the silver-haired man’s nonchalance. He just seemed so at ease with the world, directly contrasting Yuuri’s own inner anxiety once he was put out of his comfort zone. He shook his head ruefully and stood with his mates to disembark from the plane.

 

* * *

 

 

Customs was moving relatively quickly this time, in Victor’s opinion. For that he was immensely grateful; the urge to lay claim on his mates was vibrating on his every nerve. The surface felt slightly numb, but underneath was a honeycomb of tingling and sparks, itchiness and irritation.  It was like the sensation of tiny, electrified ants crawling under his skin, impossible to brush away. Victor didn’t think he’d ever been so uncomfortable in his life, and it was all he could do to stand in line and wait.

Yuuri took the opportunity to call his parents and tell them about the recent minor changes in his life: finding a mate, quitting sweetwork, and moving to Russia. Today. Permanently. His mother answered the phone and unleashed a flood of protective confusion that made Victor grin. Mothers were adorable. His own had particularly been a sweetheart.

“I’m so sorry, Kaa-san… Everything just happened so fast, and Yurio needs to get back to St. Petersburg to prepare for World’s, so we had to leave right away.  Yes, we’ll be back to visit as soon as we can so that you can meet him. Yes, he’s going to let me skate. Yes… Kaa-… Kaa-san…. Okaa-san! I have to go now, we’re nearly at the front of the line. I love you, too. Yes, please tell Tou-san and Nee-san. Thank you!”

Yuuri clicked the end button on his cell phone and hung his head. “Auuugh, I’m such a shittttty son!”

Victor chuckled. “Everything that you told her was true… we’ve been exceptionally busy. You should call Dr. Yang now.” He scratched at his forearms.

The physician’s response to Yura’s new development was as excited as expected. Victor heard her scream from several feet away from the phone. She demanded they get a blood sample and have it mailed to her under dry ice immediately. Yuuri agreed, much to Yurio’s displeasure, and reminded the doctor to fax Yurio’s medical dismissal to Yuko for Yutopia records.

Once through customs, Victor suggested they head to the Korean Air lounge for the next few hours before their overnight flight. He lead the way, having been there a few times before when similar hold-ups had happened on his trips. Behind him, Yuuri and Yura chattered animatedly.

“So, tell me again. I need to focus on something that makes me angry and something that makes me turned on…. Like one thing that makes me feel both of those, because I don’t think things that make me angry really—”

“No, Yurio,” Yuuri interrupted, laughing. “It can be two different things; you just have to think about them both at the same time.” He reached over and patted the blonde’s shoulder.

“Oh. Yeah, ok, let me try,” Yura caught Yuuri’s hand as the raven made to pull away and twined their fingers together. Victor glanced back to see the boy screwing up his face in concentration, and as he looked away, the barest hint of a smoky scent wafted through the air.

“That’s great, Yurio!” Yuuri cried out excitedly. “That’s a wonderful start!”

The smell vanished, and Yura let out a deep exhale. “Just realized…” He said, drawing in another large lungful of air, “That I was holding my breath… Damn, that’s really hard!”

Yuuri grinned. “Well, of course it is. But that really was impressive; it took me forever to get my scent to erupt like that. Maybe already knowing what Alpha should feel like is making it go more smoothly for you to learn the mimicry.” He swung his mate’s hand back and forth, clearly proud.

“I’d say it’s because I have such a great teacher,” Yura replied dryly, “But, you’re probably right. It feels familiar. It’s kind of nice to smell my smoke again… I thought it was gone forever. And now the green apple seems to have faded some...The poppy seems to be the only constant scent I have, but I think it still smells nice… right?” He looked to Yuuri for assurance.

“You smell amazing with and without your smoke scent. I love it,” the ex-sweet responded seriously. “Right, Victor?”

The alpha cocked his head to the side. “Yes, it does smell nice. Just like Yuuri’s cinnamon, it doesn’t particularly set me on edge either; that’s especially pleasant.” Although Victor did find Yura to be a bit irritating at the moment… He couldn’t pin down why and decided it just had to do with his intense need to be alone with them, and the boy’s dawdling delaying that.

Yuri tried again and again as they traipsed across the monstrous airport toward the lounge while continuing the impromptu lesson. He seemed to be getting better at it, if the length of time he was managing to hold the scent counted for anything. The floral, smoky aroma was very uniquely Yura, and this was Victor’s first time experiencing it. It suited the youth well.

“I’ve never been to Incheon airport before,” Yuuri commented. “It’s huge!” He waved his arms out in a spreading motion. Then he came to a sudden halt.

“Guys.”

“Hmm?” Victor asked distractedly, turning back. Yuuri was staring at a sign that read “All-Weather Ice Skating Rink.”

Yura was muttering to himself the key words that Yuuri had taught him to focus his concentration. He looked up in time to see Yuuri give Victor a bit of a pleading look. “Oh, yeah this place has that weird synthetic ice rink,” the youth realized.

Victor tried to keep himself from shaking. He really needed to be in a private place with them now, but the look on Yuuri’s face was impossible to even consider saying “No” to. Yura solved the dilemma for him.

“Let’s go for a _little bit_. I haven’t been there since I was a kid.” He said, looking at Victor and emphasizing the brief length of time. He slung an arm around the man’s stiffly-held back and walked him in the direction the sign pointed. “Yuuri have you ever skated on synthetic ice? It’s pretty weird.”

Yuuri didn’t know what synthetic ice was made of, so Yura cajoled Victor into explaining the differences. “It’s usually made using large puzzle-like pieces of some kind of polyethylene, so it wears out skates pretty quickly. Then they spray a silicone substance on it to allow gliding. It’s good for resistance training, but recreational skaters don’t enjoy it as much because it’s harder to move on. It’s more common for hockey players than figure skaters to use it for that purpose. I can’t say that I like it much, but they’re still working on improving the formula. I have moderate hopes for it.”

“Just don’t expect it to feel like real ice…” Yura added, grabbing Yuuri’s hand and smiling. “And no tricks, we can’t have you getting hurt because you can’t control yourself on the crappy fake ice.

Yuuri laughed and reminded his younger mate that he hadn’t been skating in nearly 8 years. “I’ll be lucky if I can do basic stroking on this new “ice”!” He made quote marks in the air with his fingers.

A few minutes later, Victor found himself paying 4,000 KRW each for entrance and skates to the Ice Forest.

“These are awful,” Yura complained with disdain while they laced up their bright blue skates.

“Of course they are… they’re rentals for a synthetic rink. _None of us_ are allowed to do anything more than glide around,” Victor commanded firmly. “We are not getting injured here. Half an hour, no more than that.”

The three joined the plethora of adults and wobbly kids skating around the large oval. Yuuri took a moment to stabilize himself and then chuckled. “This is so strange. It’s even hot in here.” He glanced around before reaching out for Victor’s hand.

“Told you…” Yura said, poking him in the side before taking off for the center of the ice.

“Yura, get back here!” Victor shouted after him. “No spinning, you’ll break your ankles on those dull blades!” The blonde’s laughter was his only reply. Victor tightened his grip on Yuuri’s hand and pulled the omega closer to him, keeping close to the edge of the rink. “If he hurts himself, I’ll make him polish all the rental skates at our rink.”

They were quiet for a lap or so until Victor asked, “So, how does it feel to be back on the ice after so long?”

The raven shrugged. “It doesn’t actually feel like it, honestly. The friction coefficient is too high on this surface. What I loved about skating was how effortless it was to move like this.” He gestured to the semi-easy slide across the polyethylene.

Victor nodded. “It’ll be different when we get back to St. Petersburg. I imagine it’s difficult to visualize…” A grimace escaped from his controlled expression, and he glanced at his watch. The ants under his skin were becoming intolerable. _I really need to leave here soon. I can’t take this anymore!_

“Victor, you really don’t like this surface, do you?” Yuuri asked, watching the silver-haired man’s face and stroking the back of his hand.

“No… I mean, yes!” Victor sighed and shook his head, composing himself, before he continued. “I’m not particularly fond of it, but that’s not the problem I have right now. Normally, I’d be perfectly content to skate around with you, regardless of what the ice was made of.”

His omega paled. “Are you upset about earlier with Koyanagi-san?”

Victor immediately spun so that he was skating backwards in front of Yuuri holding both of his hands. He wanted to be completely clear when assuaging his mate’s worries. “No. NO I am not upset with you…” A wave of dizziness snuck up on him, and he skated them over to the wall.

“It’s just, since then I haven’t had the opportunity to…” Victor trailed off with a sigh. Finally he brought his hand up and settled it on the back of Yuuri’s neck, massaging gently, trying to reintroduce the familiarity and express himself physically since his words didn’t seem to be coming out like he wanted.

Yuuri’s eyes flashed silver, and he suddenly seemed to understand. “Oh… OH! I’m so sorry. I haven’t been paying proper attention to you, because I’ve been focused on Yurio’s lessons. Oh shit; I am _such_ a shitty mate! I’m so sorry, let’s go! Let’s go right now!”

Victor felt something inside him ease at the omega’s words, full of the need to please him. Yuuri turned to call Yura back to them, but Victor pulled him back.

“It’s all right, but we can't stay more than another 5 minutes or so. I don’t trust Yura here...” He turned to look for his younger mate and spotted him doing single axels. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU SUICIDAL IDIOT?!”

“YOU SAID NO SPINS!” Yura yelled back.

“THAT’S BECAUSE I THOUGHT NO JUMPS WAS OBVIOUS! GET BACK HERE!”

Victor’s eyes were pulled from his skater as Yuuri’s face split into a broad smile. The omega sent a beckoning wave to Yura, and the youth came immediately.

_Of course, he comes instantaneously when Yuuri calls him…_

“Yakov has rubbed off on you, Vitya…” Yura stated, smirking, as they worked their way off the synthetic ice. “Can’t express yourself anymore without yelling?”

A muscle in Victor’s cheek twitched. “Do you want to lose World’s, because you couldn’t resist showing off to random kids on a fake ice rink in a South Korean airport?”

“ _The_ South Korean airport, Victor.” Yura corrected, completely steam-rolling Victor’s attempt at a threat. “This is Incheon! Oh wait, that was rhetorical, wasn’t it?” He laughed airily.

Victor rolled his eyes and sat down on a bench to unlace the sad excuse for skates that insulted his feet. He felt distinctly on edge, and not just because of his ongoing dilemma. Yuri as a beta was so… free. He had a child-like carefree grace settled around him, able to brush off bothersome things and simply enjoy himself. And for some reason the boy was ticking Victor off. He didn’t respond to Victor as an alpha unless he actually wanted to. It was eerie and uncomfortable, and the older man actually felt a bit of relief when he remembered that his mate probably wouldn’t stay this dynamic.

The alpha began to consider that his own dynamic made him even more privileged than he had originally thought, and that was saying something. He’d somehow managed to already get used to Yura being more obedient than he had previously. How had Victor never noticed that not only did Betas have the privilege of not being controlled by their own hormones, they were also more resilient to the pheromones of the other dynamics?

_No, that’s not it… He responds to Yuuri nearly the same as before. It’s just me that he doesn’t have to acknowledge. He’s behaving almost exactly as he did with me before he presented…_

And then it hit him. Dr. Yang had said that Betas were merely under-expressed genetic versions of Omegas and Alphas. Yura must be on the alpha spectrum, so between Victor’s current need to reconnect with his mates the playfulness banter they usually engaged in, Victor was actually becoming agitated. Instead of happily insulting each other as per their normal interactions, Victor was taking it seriously… like an idiot. And Yura was even more happy-go-lucky with his barbs than usual, because he couldn’t feel Victor’s negative reactions to them.

Victor took a deep breath, and let it out again. _Relax, Alpha_ … A hand settled on his shoulder and looked up to see Yura, worried creases forming between his brows.

“Am I being weird? I’m being weird, aren’t I?” The youth asked.

Victor gave an honest smile. “No… I am. You’re fine, I’m just learning some things about myself.”

Yuuri took hold of Victor’s hand and tugged him to his feet. “Let’s go! We can talk about your new epiphany on the way to the lounge.”

Fortunately, it wasn’t far. Victor kept his revelation to himself, deciding to work it out in his mind before burdening his mates with it.  When they arrived, Victor hurried to the desk. The attendant checked their tickets, apologized for the inconvenience, and bid them to enjoy themselves during their visit.

“Are any of the private rooms available?” The alpha asked hopefully.

“No sir, but one of the four-bed slumber rooms is currently unoccupied. Someone else may come in to use the fourth bed, though.”

Victor leaned over the desk and set down the tidy sum of Euro bills that he’d had ready. The woman’s eyes widened, but she recovered quickly and swept the money cleanly off the desk, tucking it into her pocket. “I hope the four of you enjoy your naps. Here is the key to slumber room 3. It’s down this hall here.”

Victor’s mates weren’t particularly paying attention to his interaction, so they missed the successful bribe and just continued following the older Russian down the hall.

“Hey Yurio,” Yuuri asked curiously, “You don’t have to answer, but… but what are you thinking about for your rage and lust for your mimicry?”

Yurio turned red, dropping his eyes. “Lust-wise, I think of our first time together… when I was Alpha. It seems like that should help, right?”

“That’s a really good idea, I think,” The omega agreed, patting his younger mate on the shoulder. “And for the anger?”

Victor unlocked the door and was presented with a dimly lit room decorated with purple and gold and occupied by four elegantly adorned twin beds.

“Honestly… I think about your story of what happened in Bangkok.”

Yuuri paled. “That… Of all things, that’s what makes you the angriest?”

“What happened in Bangkok?” Victor asked, locking the door. _What on Earth could make Yura so angry for his mimicry to come on so easily?_

“Oh that’s right… He doesn’t know yet…” Yura said slowly, looking at their dark-haired mate.

Yuuri swallowed roughly and sat down on one of the beds. “Now probably isn’t a good idea to bring this up… You’re in a wild state, Alpha, and we can’t have you falling into a rut just because I—”

Victor held up a hand, and the omega stilled. “One of you tell me what happened, please. It’s not good to keep secrets amongst us, accidental or not, we should correct this.”

The two looked at each other, and then Yuuri nodded and looked away.

Yura spoke quietly, reiterating the unfortunate tale that Yuuri had entrusted to him after his ridiculous question about showers. He finished the story with a basic summary: “So um, essentially, he went into heat on the streets and… was taken advantage of by… a number of alphas.”

Victor looked back at Yuuri, who was crawling under one of the purple blankets to hide on a bed. Doubtless he thought Victor would be upset at him by this information.

“What…?” Victor was disoriented. Yuuri had been right. He shouldn’t have heard this right now. _Dammit, I am going to listen to them when they tell me things! I am not just going to assume I know best!_

But now it was too late. Utter rage, hatred, and horror were curling like licks of flame in his abdomen. He wanted to _kill_ those alphas. No… He wanted to find them, flay them, cut off all of their limbs, and only then would he allow them to die, whimpering on the ground like the pieces of utter refuse that they were.

“Vitya, your eyes are gold…” Yura murmured… “But they’re like... weird gold.”

Yuuri poked his head out from under a pillow. “Oh, fuck...” he groaned out, pleasure tinging his words.

Victor felt the all-encompassing need to protect his omega. To cultivate that pleasure. To cleanse him of all the hurts and the aches that those terrible cretins left on him. He wanted to sooth, but his alpha really only knew one way to help an omega in pain and ward off other alphas. All he could think about was that his mate had been hurt, and _he hadn’t been there_.

_Protect…Save…Keep…Ease…Bond…Breed…Mate…_

_“Mine_...” Victor hissed out, stalking toward the bed Yuuri had chosen.

“Vitya, wait, I don’t know what you’re going to—”

Victor turned his eyes toward his younger mate, and Yura stilled instantly, responding to the increased alphan pheromones.

“You. Sit. There. Wait,” The silver-haired man commanded, pointing at the edge of the bed next to Yuuri’s.

“Yes, Alpha,” Yura sat. He looked surprised at his own response.

When Victor made it to within an arm’s reach of Yuuri, the omega moaned unconsciously, letting the blanket fall off of him. “Alpha… you…” His eyes shimmered, fleeting streaks of silver erupted like shooting stars. “It was a long time ago.”

“Nothing like that will ever happen to you again. Do you understand? I will protect you.” Victor glanced briefly to Yura before locking his gaze with his omega again. “ _We_ will protect our mate. Always and forever.”

His mind was overrun. Alpha was in control now. Victor couldn’t be trusted to properly care for his omega at the moment, so jumbled were his thoughts, and he released most of that control with relief. He settled on the bed next to Yuuri, drawing the smaller man into his arms. The raven was pliant, eyes sparking silver.

“Yura, come over here with us,” Victor directed, and the youth padded softly over to their bed, settling on the other side of the omega.

“Yuuri, give me your hand, please ” The omega raised his right hand, and Victor caught hold of it, bringing the elegant inner wrist to his lips for a soft kiss.

Yuuri’s eyes widening, deepening to a dark chrome as he sat up and turned to face his alpha. “Yesss…” He hissed out. “Yours!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The details about Ice Forest in Incheon airport are true: it actually is a synthetic ice rink inside an airport. There's also a spa and a movie theater, I believe.
> 
> The Korean Air lounge at Incheon isn't so elegant as the one in this story... it's more descriptive of the Thai First Class lounge in Bangkok, which does have sleeping rooms available.
> 
> I've actually worked out most of the quirks of the genetics behind dynamics now, I'm pleased to say.  
> On scent clarification for Yuri so far:  
> Yuri as an Alpha: Poppy and Smoke  
> Yuri as a Beta on Alpha spectrum: Poppy, mild Apple  
> Yuri as an Omega: Poppy and Green Apples


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrist bonding! And attention for Yuuri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second part of this chapter would not write for me... until 1 in the morning. And then it just spilled out like a flood. And then I wrote all night instead of sleeping like an adult with responsibilities should... So, I apologize if there are a lot of errors.... I promise I'll proof it tomorrow, but I wanted to get it to you guys pseudo-on time.
> 
> I hope you like this chapter; I found it quite interesting.

Yuri watched Vitya’s lips move against Yuuri’s wrist and felt several confusing emotions well up in him. A bit of jealousy curled itself around his heart, but it was mostly drowned by a flood of contentment and joy. Excitement had him dancing his hands along Yuuri’s arm until he too had access to one of the ex-sweet’s elegant wrists. The raven let out a cute little groan, turning his hand out to display the inner wrist to his younger mate.

Vitya looked from Yuuri’s hand to Yuri and seemed to steel himself. Yuri stilled. Then the alpha nodded once, approvingly. Yuri felt all of the envy and jealousy in him evaporate completely. He wasn’t being cast out... He wasn’t being ignored. He was wanted, as long as he let himself be guided by Alpha. He was ok with that, mostly. A little part of him felt a challenge growing, but his alpha’s bond mark on his throat and the man’s far more powerful pheromones made it clear that he needed to be submissive in this case. It didn’t rankle him like he expected it to.

Yuri noted that Vitya didn’t seem to be a in a good state to vocalize for consent, his eyes already golden and glazed over, so he took it upon himself. “Yuuri… We want to mark your wrists. Do you want that?” Perhaps the clear headedness of the beta dynamic was even useful in bonding… Yuri still wanted to lay a mark on the omega’s wrist and bond closer to him, but he didn’t feel like he _had_ to do it immediately. At this point, he was pretty sure that being Beta was the easiest of the dynamic options. He definitely didn’t have to try to control himself or realign his thoughts like before. He didn’t have to fight against his inner dynamic when it wanted something that he didn’t. All Yuri had to do was what he or his mates wanted, and he felt more powerful in his mastery of himself. He liked it. He liked it a lot.

Yuuri tilted his head back against the pillow of the small bed. “I… want… that… Please!” He husked out between sharp breaths.

Yuri felt an intense flash of pleasure at the sight and sound of consent, and apparently so did Vitya, because the man let out a low, rumbling growl. He took to sucking lightly at the pulse point of the wrist he had claimed. All in a rush, the alpha’s pheromones were suddenly flooding into the air with so much force that even Yuri was starting to feel a bit woozy from them. Yuuri seemed to be on the edges of a state of ecstasy: his eyes half-lidded and chest heaving.

“Yura,” The older Russian said in a rough, hurried voice. “Do you know how to do this? It can be dangerous if you’re not careful.”

The beta froze, suddenly realizing that he didn’t. _No… I know basically how, but I don’t want to hurt him. Can’t I just bite it like I did his throat? I just want to mark it! Why don’t I know how to do this?! And how did Vitya know that would be the case?_

The alpha’s eyes were focused, and he seemed much more relaxed now that Yuuri had consented to the second bonding mark. Yuuri, on the other hand, was writhing on the bed in obvious need and impatience. He tugged at his mates, whimpering. Vitya stroked his mate’s dark hair for a moment, crooning softly, before turning back to Yuri. Taking the youth’s long external silence as an answer, he began to give perfunctory instructions.

“Normally, as a beta, your bite would be painful to him regardless of how you did it, but with my pheromones it will feel good for him if you do it correctly. Betas don’t have the instincts to place a perfect bite, and most study excessively before attempting one. You have no such education nor the instinctual knowledge of an alpha or omega. And unfortunately, if you do hurt him… I might attack you on impulse. Apologies in advance.” He said the last in a dead-pan voice, as if it was an everyday occurrence for one mate to attack another.

Yuri swallowed roughly, suddenly extremely worried about the alpha coming after him for accidentally fucking up. “Then… what am I supposed to do?”

Vitya’s mouth curled into a smile, his canines bared almost ferally. “I will teach you,” he replied, chagrin coating every syllable. He leaned over Yuuri and traced a fingertip down the two largest tendons in the omega’s wrist. “Don’t bite these. Your lower teeth lock in here.” He pointed between the two tendons. “Make sure his wrist is slack so there’s space.” Yuuri’s wrist flopped forward.

“Your top teeth will press nearly on this bone here below his smallest finger. Outside or inside, depending on your jaw size and your preference. Don’t push too hard directly on the bone. Bite until you draw blood from both sides. Are you ready?” Vitya continued tracing the area on Yuuri’s wrist as Yuri struggled to keep up with the instructions.

“What?! No! I need to… practice or something. How the hell did this come so easily before?!” Stress was building in his chest despite both Victor and Yuuri’s apparent attempts to drown him in relaxing pheromones.

“I can’t… wait much longer… Yura…” Vitya bit out. He eased himself on top of Yuuri, one leg slipping between the omega’s thighs. The man seemed convinced that they should administer the bite at the same time, so Yuri quickly raised his mate’s wrist to his mouth and fitted his teeth into the slots described. It did fit well, he found…

Yuuri looked up at him, panting. He ground down into Vitya’s leg and mewled for the alpha to be closer. “Please!” He begged again, desperation painting color into the subtext of his cries.

“I… Do it now. Yura, for the love of god, do it now!” Vitya hissed. He stared at Yuri and brought Yuuri’s left wrist back to his mouth. With a rough slash, he tore his teeth into the innocent skin, precisely in the places he had outlined for his younger mate. Yuuri screamed and began shuddering. His cock was standing at attention, pressed against Vitya’s leg and straining at his pants.

The beta followed suit as soon as he saw his older mate’s teeth descend, but he couldn’t get the twist right, and instead just ended up bearing down on the places he had placed his teeth. It was _hard to do._ He watched blood flow smoothly from the wrist Vitya had marked, and the alpha lapped at it gently.

_How the hell did he do that so easily!_

Biting harder, Yuri finally felt the skin break under his teeth, and blood coated his tongue. He resisted the urge to gag and pull back at the coppery taste. This wasn’t what he was expecting at all! Continuing the bite, he bore down even harder on the other side. Still he failed to mark the skin! Anxiety now filled the young skater to the brim, and as a last ditch effort, he moved outside of the bone, like Vitya had said he could, and smashed his teeth down hard.

The same scream resultant from Vitya’s bite was released from Yuuri’s throat, and Yuri knew the mark had finally succeeded. He licked at the broken skin as Vitya had, burying disgust deep down in himself with each and every touch of his tongue against the bloody flesh.  He knew this was what he was supposed to be doing, and he’d never disliked the taste or smell of blood before. Yet, here he was, trying to breathe through his mouth so he didn’t smell the penny-flavored liquid flowing from his mate’s body.

 _This is for our bond. This is for my mates! Why do I hate this so much?_!

Yuuri was grabbing for his hand. He let the omega have it, and Yuuri didn’t wait so much as a millisecond before snapping his jaws fiercely into Yuri’s flesh. The youth winced and let a hissing breath out through his teeth. _Fuck that hurts!_ _God, being Beta fucking sucks! I have no idea what I’m doing and everything hurts!_

Vitya wrapped an arm around him as the omega took to licking at his wrist soothingly. Yuri felt slightly ill as he watched his raven-haired mate’s face become coated with his own crimson life source.

Then he felt it… He felt _Yuuri_. Not as strongly as he had before he had changed to Beta, but stronger than he had on the airplane. And that… That felt good.  He leaned forward and kissed that red smeared mouth beneath boiling silver eyes, and he toppled onto the omega, laughing. Yuuri let out an answering yipping sound of joy, and licked against the beta’s blood stained teeth and kissing his lips playfully.

After a few seconds, Yuri felt a tug on his unmarked wrist. He turned, and Yuuri resorted to lapping at a bond mark on his throat.

Vitya stood looking down at his mates. His eyes were the same smoldering gold that Yuri had watched them morph into upon entering this room. His presence was commanding, fulfilling, and monstrous in its desire.

“You feel far from me, little mate…” Vitya whispered.

He already had one bleeding wrist; it seemed Yuuri had marked him while Yuri had been overwhelmed with trying to complete his own mark on the omega. Yuri wanted Vitya to mark him, too… He knew it was going to hurt, but he wanted the connection back. The one he’d been missing since he’d switched dynamics again. Yuri stared at the older Russian and shook his head slowly, and a sharp tingle at his temples alerted him to some kind of change in himself. It was becoming easier to figure out when those events happened…

And then, Yuri found himself staring. The alpha looked _amazing_. Handsome and powerful…Yuri still found the blood smeared across his face and hands unsightly, but for some reason Vitya was far more interesting and attractive to him than he had been a moment ago. He wanted the man’s hands on him. He wanted his teeth on his wrist. Now. Yuri frowned. He was definitely still Beta… What the fuck now?

“You switched spectrums just now, didn’t you? Because you want me to mark you?” Vitya’s voice was deep and rough. He was clearly holding himself back, the grip on Yuri’s hand increasing in pressure by the second. And Yuri realized that the older man must be right… If his omegian gene had clicked on or whatever… that would explain why he suddenly had become more interested in Vitya than Yuuri. He felt the need to do as his older mate desired… He didn’t have to, like he had when he was Omega, but he wanted to please Vitya, which was exactly like he had felt about Yuuri earlier.

“Then let me mark you, Beta… Tell me you want my mark on you.” Vitya’s eyes looked pleased. Triumphant.

“Hurrrry up!” Yuuri whined, rutting up against Yuri’s leg and growling in frustration.

The alpha smiled at his impatient raven-haired mate while he brought Yuri’s wrist to his lips, waiting.

The youth took a deep breath, and then he nodded. Just like Yuuri, Vitya showed no hesitation. The rough parting of Yuri’s skin beneath his teeth was a special sort of hell. Not only did he have the physical pain of sharpness puncturing his body, but now he felt as if he were completely apart from his alpha. He squeezed his eyes shut, moaning in pain at the wound and the incomplete bond.

Someone was stroking his hair and murmuring soft words, and he felt skin at his lips. Realizing it was Vitya’s wrist, he bit into it in desperation.

A hiss of displeasure came from the man, and Yuri swiftly adjusted his teeth to a better position, biting down harder. Omegian pheromones wafted in the air, and Yuri assumed that Yuuri was attempting to ease Vitya’s pain. Blood finally flowed into his mouth, and Yuri let go, panting, happy to really feel Victor’s presence again for the first time since he was Omega.

He opened his eyes to see silver ones glaring back at him, and Yuri realized the hand stroking his head had stopped sometime before that moment.

“Shit… Yuuri, what?”

“Don’t. Hurt. Alpha,” Yuuri hissed out at him, crawling toward Yuri, and glaring all the while. Without warning, he surged forward, pushing Yuri back until the youth toppled off the small bed. Taking Vitya's wrist that Yuri had just marked, the omega brought his mouth down to it and lapped at the rough bond mark.  A sigh of relief came from deep in Vitya’s chest, and he wrapped himself around Yuuri.

Yuri stared at them in disbelief. So in the end, it wasn’t Victor he had to be worried about if he fucked up… it was _Yuuri_. The ex-sweet just became more badass every day that Yuri knew him! But the omega seemed content now that he had soothed his Alpha’s pain, and he wiggled out of Vitya’s grip to look over at Yuri sprawled on the floor. He looked penitent, and a pained expression on his face.

“Sorry…” Yuuri mumbled, reaching out to him. “My stupid omega got confused for a minute…” Yuri took the offered hand and allowed himself to be pulled haphazardly onto the bed.

 

* * *

 

 

The three mates took a moment to align themselves properly to fit on the small bed, wrapped up in each other’s arms and licking the bonding marks.

Yuuri was trying to be patient; he really was. But, he’d been hard since the moment Victor’s lips had grazed his wrist, and now his body was so worked up that he thought he might explode from the tension. His wrists burned pleasantly, and his bonding urge was sated… to a degree. He wanted the bond sealed, and that meant sex.

Yurio was being oddly reticent. The boy had successfully managed to mark both of his mates, but it had clearly been difficult for him. Yuuri had watched him turn green after he bit though Victor’s skin, the blood clearly not agreeing with him. This was a common manifestation of the beta dynamic: lack of instincts involving bonding. Yuuri was proud he had actually managed to do it, and he was impressed that Victor had managed to coach him through it.  Yuuri was also mildly embarrassed at being completely distracted and useless in the situation. And what was that ridiculous reaction where he chased his younger mate off the bed?!

_Stupid inner omega… Don’t you know he’s your mate, too?_

Victor, at the moment, looked like a cat perched in front of catnip-coated mouse set next to a dish of cream. He was practically salivating as his eyes beat down on Yuuri. The gaze was raw and open and demanding, and Yuuri didn’t doubt for a second that Alpha was seeking control.

Of course, that was to be expected. Victor and Yuuri had never actually set their throat bonds. Likely Victor was feeling the same intense pressure to do so now that Yuuri was experiencing. It wouldn’t feel absolutely necessary for Yurio to do so as a beta; not that that meant he wouldn’t want to do it. Comparatively, at this point it was inconceivable that Victor would be able to handle not sleeping with his omega.

Yuuri watched silver hair fall over his wrist again as Victor lovingly tongued the new bond he had placed. The bleeding had all but stopped, and he laid a final kiss to the wound before looking up.

“I need you two. Now,” he husked out.

Yurio smirked. “Do you now?” Seemed the boy still had enough sass in him to go around a table of teenaged girls. Yuuri chuckled.

Victor raised on eye brow. “Is that okay?”

The half-smile fell from Yurio’s face, and then the corners of his lips curved up and up until he was grinning full throttle. “Yes! Thank you for asking!”

Yuuri felt a rush of pride that Alpha had remembered to ask Yurio for consent. _Victor_ had promised to do so, but Victor wasn’t entirely in control of his dynamic right now… He was getting better at it, though. Impressive.

Yurio leaned over and began undoing Yuuri’s belt. “But, it seems Alpha is more in need of attention than I am right now.”

 _What…?_ Yuuri stared at his younger mate before glancing back at Victor.

“Beta-O…” Victor murmured, amusement tinging his words. “Omegian genes… so you’re still his Alpha like you have been since you laid the throat mark on him.”

“Oh dammit, I called you ‘Alpha’ again, didn’t I?” Yurio realized, looking up with a scowl as he maneuvered Yuuri’s pants off past his hips.

“Yura, who am I?”  Victor asked, pointing at his own chest.

“Alpha,” Yurio answered without hesitation, looking up.

Victor turned his finger at Yuuri with the same questioning look.

“Alpha,” repeated Yurio. Then his face scrunched in annoyance. “ _Dammit_!”

Yuuri and Victor grinned at each other.

He paused, making a face like he was chewing on his inner cheek. He opened his mouth to say something, and then abruptly closed it again. “Nope. Can’t call you any other dynamic right now. Just can’t do it.” He turned worried eyes on Yuuri. “Is that all right, because I can’t seem to control it.”

“Interesting…” Yuuri commented, trying not to snicker. It no longer hurt him to be called Alpha by Yuri. Perhaps he’d just gotten used to it? Honestly, he had been trying to think of the title as a pet name from his mate, and that helped a lot. It was still weird as hell, but it was manageable.

“It’s fine; I can handle it.”

“Excellent,” Victor said, clapping his hands, moving on. “Is there anything you two need, because at the moment my desperate urge is to show my omega exactly what it means to be _mine_.” The alpha’s eyes flickered and narrowed as he focused back on his original intent, mentally stepping back from the distraction of Yurio’s oddities. “Yurio, I need you to help me, I can’t do this alone. But I promise that I’ll show you the same care soon. Will you help me?”

Yuuri’s mouth felt dry. He swallowed a couple of times, trying to work moisture back onto his tongue so he could speak. “Yep, sounds good. Let’s do that. I need that. Go for it.” He felt a squeeze and looked down to find Yurio tightly gripping his hand. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one enamored by the idea after all. The youth nodded repeatedly. He looked kind of like a bobblehead, and again Yuuri was forced to bite back a laugh.

Damn, the second mark really was easier than the first. Or maybe it was because Yurio was Beta this time? The entire post-mark occasion was relaxing and comfortable: the three mates laughing together, at ease with each other, letting their arousal and need build slowly.

Yuuri still felt mostly clearheaded despite the happy, comfortable cloud that had taken up residence in his chest. His inner omega was in an ecstatic mood, entirely pleased with the progression of events, and it was letting Yuuri do whatever he wanted as a result. Even more fortunately, Yuuri and his inner omega were entirely in agreement on what they wanted next. He knew he needed to be claimed by his Alpha, and more than anything, he wanted both his mates to be happy and sated.

Victor eased Yuuri up from his reclined position and neatly relieved him of his shirt, tossing it aside as the raven flopped back down. Now the omega was completely bare while his mates were fully clothed. That seemed unfair… He tugged at the hem of his alpha’s shirt.

“Off.”

Victor smirked but agreeably crossed his arms across his stomach to gather his shirt and lift it over his head. “Bossy Omega…”

Yurio let out a little hum from where he was perched, now kneeling on the side of the bed. He took the command as well, stripping off his hoodie and shirt.  

“I can’t believe we’re doing this on a twin bed,” Victor muttered. “Seriously not how I thought my second bond would go, if I ever had one.”

“Don’t care; clothes off; someone touch me,” Yuuri ordered, his eyes raking over the lean forms slowly appearing from behind his mates’ discarded clothing. He didn’t even care that he wasn’t being properly submissive. His inner omega glowered at him for a moment, but it was so happy from receiving the wrist bond that it contained itself.

“At least it’s extra-long… you can pretend you’re back in college.” Yurio commented entirely unhelpfully. As requested, he started sliding his fingertips up and down Yuuri’s side from shoulder to hip to knee and back and again. The light sensation made Yuuri shiver and arch into touch.

Victor smiled lazily. “Do shut up, Yura.”

Now standing completely nude, he gently urged Yuuri onto his front.

Yuuri scrambled to obey the unspoken command. _Man, I am all talk today… No wonder my omega is allowing it._

There was a rustling as Victor explored the bedside cabinet. He chuckled lightly. “Turns out we’re not the first people to do something of this design.”

Yuuri turned his head to see the man holding a small bottle of oil. Victor read the label quickly and nodded. Apparently, it would do.

“Close your eyes, Yuuri. Relax for me.”

Yuuri did as he was told, settling on the pillow with his face turned away. And then warm, slick hands started massaging his feet. Not only two hands…. Four. He moaned in spite of himself. It felt _so good_. The hands stretched his feet lightly, worked up to his ankles and into the joint. Firm grips took hold of his lower legs and thumbs rubbed circles into his calves, coaxing the muscles to relax.  The attention on each side was similar but not identical; it made the sensations even more surprising and enjoyable.

Fingertips tickled the backs of his knees as the amazing hands traveled their way up his legs. When they started kneading his thighs, a sigh spilled from Yuuri’s lips to break the silence. He fell into a pleasant meditative state: his mind cloudy blue and gray with sensation and ease and little pings of bright pleasure popping up like stars.

Yuuri let out little moans, half-sleep glazing all other thoughts away except pure, unadulterated contentment.  The stars burned brighter as Victor and Yurio dragged their hands over the thickness of his inner thighs, working them over thoroughly. His mates spared no inch of skin or muscle, pausing only to drizzle a bit more oil on him as they saw fit.

The kneading moved smoothly up to his hips, squeezing and pressing into the firm flesh of his ass, dipping close to the center and down to more illicit areas but always avoiding direct contact. Yuuri squirmed a bit, his arousal spiking, but the only reaction he received for his efforts was a couple of soft chuckles from somewhere that seemed far, far away.

Slowly, they continued moving up his body, paying extra attention to areas that Yuuri made noises for. Stroking, rubbing, caressing... They pressed into his back, dragged hands up the sides of his spine, and worked into the muscles in his shoulders.

Tension melted off the omega. Stress that he hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying. Those blissful hands had him imagining he was sleeping on a cloud. His own hands were picked up simultaneously, and thumbs rubbing circles into his palms, stretched his fingers lightly, worked into his wrists and up his arms. Nails scratched into his scalp as soft fingertips massaged his neck.

If there was a heaven, this was it. Yuuri had never felt so relaxed in his entire life. There, between his two mates, after drawing another mark into their skins and souls to reaffirm their bond, they were irreverently lavishing him with attention as though he were the most precious thing on the planet.

No one had ever done anything like this. He hadn’t thought anyone would ever do anything nearly as benevolent. And they were doing it _for him_. Not because he asked. Not because he needed it. Not because they expected anything in return. They were doing it because they _wanted_ to, and Yuuri could feel love in every caress. He felt safer than he thought was possible. And that was the moment that Yuuri knew what it really meant to have mates.

The hands were sliding under his hips, coaxing him to rise onto his knees. He obeyed unconsciously, following the touches. He was half-hard from the touches and teases. He heard the oil bottle being opened again, and then one hand wrapped around his cock, stroking loosely and slowly. Just enough friction to encourage a low moan. A well-lubed finger gently pressed against him, circling carefully before dipping inside.

Yuuri was so relaxed that he took it in almost effortlessly. Hands still caressed his body seemingly at random. The hand gripping him altered its rhythm to twist up over the wet head of his cock before returning to its unhurried movements.

The scent in the air was heavy with green apples and lemon and honey, and Yuuri could almost taste them. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to push his hips backward or forward, and when he tried, a hand gripped his hips and a whisper of words breached the quiet:  “Try to be still…. You’re doing so well… Such a good omega…”

He whined and whimpered, but the lazy pace wasn’t altered. Two fingers worked their way in and out of him, scissoring, stretching. They pressed in deeply and slid once across his prostate, and he jolted. A soothing hand stroked up and down his back, encouraging him to relax again.

Yuuri wasn’t even sure if he was awake anymore. Nothing could feel this good. Maybe he’d been drugged? He didn’t know how many fingers were in him anymore as they caressed the walls inside him. Unhurried, as if his mates wanted to nothing else for the rest of their lives but slowly build him to an unimaginable peak.

Finally, he was coaxed to roll over onto his back, and his hips were raised. Warm lips kissed across his collar bone and down his chest before laving a nipple and teasing it between teeth. Palms swept up and down his sides. At last, Yuuri felt a cock press against him, slowly, teasingly easing its way inside.

“Uhhh… that… yes… Nnnn…” he babbled out, unsure if anything spilling from his mouth was understandable or if he was just making absurd noises. He didn’t care. About anything. He gripped the bedspread with both hands.

The mouth attending to his nipples continued down his body, pausing to kiss his stomach and trace the indents of his muscles, before gliding down farther. The wet tip of a tongue delved into the hollows around his hip bones, staying connected with his skin until it licked the side of his cock from base to tip.

Yuuri didn’t even know he could make the noise that came out of his mouth, but he could feel the smile against his skin and was unconcerned about it.

The whispers came back, lower and more ragged than before, but still in the same vain: “A little more… You’re so beautiful… That’s it, just let yourself go… We’re here. We have you…”

The cock inside of him was finally fully seated, and a rush of breath came from his mate. It dawned on Yuuri that the man might be having a bit of trouble control himself. Through the haze of pleasure, the thought made Yuuri smile.

Movement began, steady and sure, aligning in a way to just graze his prostate. It wasn’t a dead hit; it was just enough to send Yuuri spiraling deeper into the rush of sensation. Lips wrapped tenderly around his cock, moving languidly, and a tongue swirled at the tip with every rise.

The pressure in the air built, bore down on him as though gravity was increasing. And the pressure inside him slowly rose as well.

Yuuri’s body began to shudder. He had no control over it. No one told him to keep still. The pace of his mates’ ministrations didn’t alter even when he groaned in distress.

Hi breathing rate increased, and he huffed out words. “Need… Please… Move faster…”

“No… You can do it like this,” replied a quiet voice.

A palm pressed into his stomach below his belly button, putting just enough pressure to keep him from bucking. His mate was keeping to the same, deep, languid thrusts, but the angle had changed infinitesimally.  It wasn’t gliding past anymore, instead striking his prostate directly.

Once, twice, thrice…

“Come for us… when you’re ready…”

Yuuri panted, arching his back and tangling his hands into the hair of one of his mates… Yurio from the length and texture…

The motions didn’t change, but the mouth on him sucked just a little harder, tonguing at his glans.

Yuuri didn’t even try to contain the whimpers.

“Open your eyes, Yuuri…”

It was hard, Yuuri realized. He’d been squeezing them shut. With effort, he wrenched them open. Yurio’s pink lips attended to him in smooth motions. Yuuri’s legs were wrapped around Victor’s waist as the man continued the onslaught of his prostate. But, it was their eyes that called to him: brilliant sea green and luminous gold filled with such ardor and emotion. Bloody wrists and stained mouths and all the remnants of their marking pulled him closer to the edge of a precipice he didn’t even know existed. Time was lost on Yuuri; he had no idea how long they had been there, easing him higher and higher.

Yurio’s hand took the place of his lips, and he pushed himself up the bed to lay down and mouth against a bond mark on Yuuri’s throat, encouraging the rain and brown sugar to flow into the air. The youth nibbled at his ear lobe and murmured: “When you’re ready… No rush… No hurry… Take it nice and easy.”

Everything was quiet and slow and gentle and loving, and Yuuri couldn’t take it anymore.

“Ohhhh fuuuuck!!!!!” he wailed. “ _Fuck_!”

The assault inside him didn’t stop. The hand stroking his cock didn’t stop. The murmurs in his ear didn’t stop.

The rush was incomprehensible. Yuuri’s entire body was on fire in the best possible way, and he convulsed uncontrollably.

“You’re not done yet…”

Higher… higher still.

“Keep going…”

A scream ripped from Yuuri’s throat, and he closed his eyes again, blinded by flashes of light. The scent of his mates was an all-encompassing sweet and sour apple lemonade. It rushed into his senses, overtook his body, and caressed him with its aroma. He felt like he was spinning in midair.

Yuuri reached out to push away the source of the extreme sensations, and a hand caught his wrists, pulling them overhead as a body eased onto his chest, pinning him firmly.

“More…. You can take more…”

Victor’s pace finally increased, and Yuuri cried out again: “I can’t—I can’t—I can’t! Oh Gods, fuck yesss!” It turned into a howl, and Yuuri felt Victor stutter to a stop inside him, groaning roughly with a mix of pleasure and exertion…

Yuuri wasn’t sure if he was coming again or if he’d been coming the whole time, but this was now beyond human words.

And then it was too much.

“Good… so good. Well done… Just breathe. Breathe for us.”

Victor pulled out and Yurio’s hand had ceased its beautiful torture at some point that Yuuri hadn’t noticed. The youth released his wrists and continued murmuring soothing nothings.

And then the aftershocks came. Yuuri turned onto his side facing Yurio and moaned pathetically, shaking, shuddering. He felt wildly out of control. He wanted it to stop. He never wanted it to stop.

Victor laid down behind Yuuri and wrapped his arms around him. Yurio, too, hugged him tightly. Yuuri latched onto them, needing the pressure against his body.

Yurio spoke softly against Yuuri’s cheek: “You’re so amazing… Incredible. Stunning. You should see yourself right now...”

“You did such a good job. Such a good mate. You did exactly as you were told. Now you can rest…” Victor rasped from behind Yuuri, adding his own praise and nuzzling into the raven hair.

They both whispered to him as the tremors wracked his body. They grounded him as he panted and moaned and shivered. They petted his hair and stroked his skin as the sensations rose in him again unbidden, shrieking past his defenses and throwing him back into the intense phenomenon.

“You’re safe. You’re ours.”

And finally, although he had no idea how long it took, Yuuri’s body relaxed, and he felt more tranquil than he could ever remember feeling before. He opened his eyes and loosened the death grip he had on his mates’ arms.

Yurio’s green eyes looked back at him with a small smile on his lips. “Are you all right?”

Yuuri pulled himself into a sitting position, his head woozy.

“I…. yeah…. That…” He blinked owlishly. “Damn!”

Victor chuckled, sitting up and kissing the spellbound man. Then he reached out for Yurio and pulled him into a tight hug.

“We make a good team, Alpha… I can’t believe you managed to get me off with a hand while you were fucking Yuuri,” Yurio commented, tucking his head under Victor’s chin.

“I can’t believe you managed to keep pace sucking him while you came,” Victor replied.

Yurio smirked and then reached out and pulled Yuuri into the hug. They stayed that way, arms wrapped around each other, smiling and laughing.

Then Yurio glanced at Victor’s watch on the nightstand. “As much as I would love for us to just cuddle for the next infinity… We’re going to miss our flight if we don’t get going.”

The announcement was met with much dismay, but nothing could really dim the moods of the newly wrist-bonded and sealed mates.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seung Gil's POV and the triad's arrival in St. Petersburg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm a bit late... we had to put my mother's dog to sleep yesterday. :(  
> But extra words to make up for it! I wanted to get it out ASAP, so apologies for any errors; I'll likely edit this at somevpoint.... This chapter is at a bit of a standstill, so I'm hoping to make some decent plot movement next time.

Seung Gil glowered at himself in the mirror. The same face as always stared back at him: black hair, black eyes, white skin. Damn, he really needed to get out in the sun more. His complexion was bordering on vampiric.

He sighed, gathering some soap from the dispenser and waving his hands under the automatic faucet. Nothing happened. Seung Gil tried another sink. No luck. _Oh come on…. Don’t you freeze up on me, too!_

He leaned forward and set his weight on the counter with his elbows, his soapy hands splayed out in awkward angles.

What was he even doing here? It was nearly midnight, and he was spacing out in a sugarhouse bathroom. Not just any sugarhouse, but specifically the one he should probably not be at: Yutopia. He told himself he was collecting data or doing recon or… something. Oh no, it had nothing to do with the mounting shame and depression in him which may or may not have been related to a certain female physician completely using him for sex.

He tried the tap again. No response. This was the most frigid sink that Seung Gil had ever met. He should introduce it to Izzy; they’d get on well.

He returned to his latest pastime of glaring at his reflection. He could swear his mirror image was smirking at him. Prick. He tried not to think back to his latest failure in life… and he failed at that, too.

Isabella Yang was the single most ridiculous, superficial, brilliantly insane woman he had ever met, and he had loved her since they were children.

Growing up in Seoul, the son of an omega and a beta, Seung Gil was never really expected to amount to much by anyone other than his parents. His father had died young, leaving Lee Chung Ae with four children under the age of 12: his sister Kyung Mi at age 11, Seung Gil at age 8, and his brothers Yeong Min and Eun Gwang at ages 4 and 3, respectively.

It was shortly before this time that Seung Gil met Izzy. The little girl had been high on life even in those early days. They had run the streets together: two tiny idiots with dreams a mile wide and fathoms deep. She had been everything he wasn’t: crystal blue eyes and a mischievous grin, a quick laugh and a quicker temper. She was a firecracker waiting to explode, and he had clung to her as though she was his sun. She kept him sane.

Chung Ae had thankfully recovered from the deep depression caused by the loss of her mate, likely due to the weaker Omega-Beta bond. But as an omega, she hadn’t been able to work nor did the woman with four young children receive any suitors. No one wanted to start training a sweetworker at 30, so she hadn’t even been able to take on sweetwork.

And thus, from that early age, Seung Gil had scavenged food and clothes for his mother and sister and brothers, hiding the situation from his friend. He stole lunch boxes from his classmates’ cubbies and was smacked by the teacher. He pilfered produce from the markets and was beaten by the shopkeepers and police. He gained quite a reputation as a troublemaker and a thief. At 13, he was banned from the main square unless under supervision.

Supervision came in the form of Kyung Mi, who held his hand and walked with her back straight and her chin raised. After school, she worked for a local shopkeep for the smallest of payments, but when he didn’t need her, she watched after her brothers so that Chung Ae could “visit with friends.” Seung Gil spotted his mother once on one of these visits; she was begging on a street corner.

When she came home, she told her children that she had performed some task, and her friend had paid her with the coins in the little purple bag. Seung Gil had said nothing to his siblings, but he burned the memory into his mind: the reminder of how hard his mother tried to take care of them all. He was glad Kyung Mi hadn’t seen. The young woman was proud, and she would have demanded her mother stop seeking charity. Seung Gil and his sister could take care of themselves, but those coins paid for things for the little ones. He still had that purple bag. He treasured it knowing she no longer had to do such things.

When Kyung Mi turned 18, she began to have symptoms of presenting Omega. Chung Ae had cried herself to sleep. The next morning, she called every mother she knew with an unbonded alpha or likely pre-alpha child. But Kyung Mi had poor genetics… a long line of Omegas and Betas… and no one was interested. The next morning, Chung Ae contacted the mothers of unbonded Betas and was again unsuccessful at finding a mate for her oldest child.

Chung Ae couldn’t afford to send Kyung Mi to a sugarhouse for her presentation, and no one was willing to risk impregnating the girl during her most fertile period. With no other options, she locked her daughter in the bedroom they shared and sobbed while sitting against the door and listening to the girl scream for the next 2 days. She made sure her daughter had food and water and cared for the girl as best she could, but Kyung Mi died in that room.

It wasn’t until years later that Korean sugarhouses started implementing their early training program: bringing in symptomatic eighteen year-olds and promising a safe presentation for signing at 10 year sweetwork contract. Seung Gil himself had put that proposal into motion in Seoul, five years after his sister’s death.

When he was sixteen, Izzy left. Not because she wanted to leave him, although Seung Gil would never know if she had actually been all that attached to him in the first place: considering her interests had always been far less charmed by him than by the salamanders in the creek or by the crazy science experiments in her parents’ basement that resulted in them both covered in soot (except for where their eye goggles had been.)

She left because she had to, because most of the time, children aren’t given the opportunity to influence their parents’ decisions. He’d gone with her to the airport. Held her hands tight is his own fists and asked her to write. To call. To visit.

She had smiled her brilliant grin and hugged him around the waist. Despite being two years older than her, she had been nearly of a height with him. Izzy had nuzzled her face into his hair, ruffling it beyond simple repair. “I’ll be back, Seung Gil. You’ll see.” Then she had turned, grabbed her bag and rocketed onto the gangplank and into the plane. “Keep learning! Knowledge is power,” she called back whilst zooming away.

He’d watch the plane fly out of sight and not let anyone see him cry as the one bright, warm, untouched thing is his life disappeared.

Three years later, he had presented Beta. This time, his mother had sobbed in happiness that he would never end up with her lot in life, lost in the plethora of Seoul-bound Omegas desperately trying to feed their families. She was even more thankful that her second child wouldn’t be subjected to the same dangerous presentation as her first.

The time had passed slowly. Izzy didn’t call. She didn’t write. She never visited… He didn’t see her again until he stumbled across her on the medical campus green in Seoul. In the end, she hadn’t lied. She’d come back. Their affair had been slow and easy and calm, just like Seung Gil had been since his sister’s death. It was anything but what Izzy was. The woman wanted drama and flair and wildness. She wanted bites and bonds and blood and everything that Seung Gil couldn’t give her.

In the end, Isabella Yang’s nonsensical need to experience the Alpha-Omega bond had everything to do with their break up, but little to do with Seung Gil’s field of research. The fates of his mother, late sister, and youngest brother had all but shot a laser beam of guidance at his direction of study: first in Dynamics and then specialized to Dynamic Alteration research. He took care of his family as best he could from afar.

Eun Gwang’s omegian presentation had been strictly governed by Seung Gil. He had convinced a friend from university to guide his little brother through his presentation, and the boy had survived. Perhaps he had not thrived, but he had survived. He now worked at a sugarhouse in the city center. Chung Ae and Eun Gwang still lived in Seoul, unable to get emigration passes without an Alpha relative or mate. Seung Gil sent them money every month. Yeong Min, also a beta, did the same. He had married a beta woman, and they lived in Busan with their 3 young children.

Really, Seung Gil should have told Izzy that he didn’t like their current relationship status; although, she certainly knew he would have preferred more. He didn’t tell her straight out, because then she might stop coming to him and he wasn’t sure he wanted that. Isabella was not a cruel woman; if she knew how hard the situation was on him, she’d have stopped immediately. As it was, she found him safe, attentive, and always available to her. Seung Gil knew she didn’t even think of him as a lover anymore, just a friend that she thought had similar needs. He chuckled wryly. Taking what you could get was a rough; yet, he still found himself in this position time and time again.

Just like usual, when she came to him earlier that day, full of excitement that her patient had again changed dynamics, with quick little smiles and bright eyes flashing across her face, he hadn’t been able to say no. He hadn’t wanted to say no when she kissed him, or when she lead him into her office or tugged off his clothing. He’d let her stroke him to full hardness and do as she pleased, and he’d worshipped every inch of her skin and every moan from her lips. Afterward, when he reached for her as always, she’d shied away _(as always)_ and reminded him that she couldn’t become attached emotionally. She had apologized quietly before leaving, and Seung Gil had replied to the closed door: “I knew what I was getting in to…again.”

And now here Seung Gil was… sitting with the only creation in existence colder than Isabella Yang… a faulty automatic faucet. It had no visible method of turning on… just like her.

_Wow… has it really come to this? I’m comparing Izzy to a nonfunctional sugarhouse faucet? I might need therapy._

The bathroom door opened, and Seung Gil whipped around at the incoming sound of music. A young man with dark hair and stunning mocha brown skin entered the room and paused as he attempted to identify the Korean man’s problem. Seung Gil shook his hands and helplessly gestured at the vengeful sink.

The man’s dark eyes sparkled, and he let out a soft musical laugh. He strode forward and placed a hand on Seung Gil’s waist for balance, leaning forward around him and pressing a single fingertip to the tap. Water flowed. It wasn’t motion-sensitive; it was touch-activated. Seung Gil felt the urge to slap himself in the face but managed to shove his sudsy hands into the flowing stream instead.

“Thank you—…”

“Peach,” replied the man promptly.  “I haven’t seen you here before… first time to Yutopia?”

Seung Gil reached out to offer a handshake, his eyes glued to the amused smile on the stranger’s mouth.

Peach laughed again, pulling a paper towel from the wall dispenser and gently drying Seung Gil’s wet, outstretched hand.

Seung Gil’s urge to slap himself intensified ten-fold. Why was he feeling so out of his element?

_What the hell is this?! It’s just some guy!_

And then he remembered the man’s words about not seeing him around… So… Peach worked here…

“You’re a sweet…” Seung Gil recognized slowly. That explained it. They were trained to make others feel as they intended, whether that be safe and comfortable or uneasy or wantonly desperate. Apparently, Peach wanted him to feel a little embarrassed but highly interested.

“Yes, sir, well done…” Peach commented with a smile. He snagged Seung Gil’s other hand and dried it. “Then, Beta, if you’ll excuse me…” With a little bow, he edged around Seung Gil and stepped in front of the full-length mirror to begin adjusting his hair with now wet hands.

“Seung Gil.”

Peach looked back at him. “Excuse me?”

“I’d prefer you call me by my name and not my dynamic,” Seung Gil replied.

The sweet tested the name out: “Seung Gil… all right.” He raked his fingers through his hair one last time before returning to the other man’s side with curiosity in his eyes.

The dynamic man reminded Seung Gil of a bouncy ball, if such a toy could exude innocent sex appeal. Peach was wearing a woman’s white yukata tied with a set of cords rather than a wide obi belt. It made his complexion even more beautiful, and he somehow made the feminine attire suit him perfectly.

“Are you looking for company tonight?” Peach asked, tilting his head to the right. The long sleeves of the yukata swayed as he rocked side to side on the balls of his feet.

“Ah… I’m not really sure why I’m here,” Seung Gil admitted. “But I wouldn’t mind spending some time with you.” Just looking at the other man made him feel better, and that couldn’t be a bad thing.

“Mmm, well I’ve already met quota for the week, but I think I might like that. You’re interesting.”

“If you’ve already met your quota then why are you here?” Seung Gil asked, raising an eye brow. Sugarhouses generally assigned quotas in individual contracts, adjustable upon a sweet’s output. It was very common, but rarely spoken of… Peach had to be wanting him to know something if he was coming right out and saying so.

“Well, our highest tier omega quit yesterday, which means a promotion is order for someone. No one knows exactly how our house mistress selects her HTs, let alone her Highest, but patron interest and output is definitely part of it. I think I’ve got a shot, so I need to be around as much as possible until she selects someone.”

“So… you’re High Tier.” _Well, balls of course he is; look at him! He’s freaking adorable!_

Ah, so that was it. Peach wanted him to know that he didn’t come cheap. Shit. Paying for the sweet’s time and attention would really cut into the amount of money Seung Gil could send home that month, and it’s not like he needed guidance for a rut or something. Well, it couldn’t hurt to ask for some kind of discount or a way around actually paying a greater fee than he already had.

“Do you think we could skip the whole thing and just go for a damn walk or something? I don’t particularly like being around people.”

Peach clapped both his hands over his mouth and dissolved into giggles. “You are so… Beta,” he said, his words muffled by his hands.

“What??” Seung Gil studied Betas. He studied all the dynamics, and he had no idea how asking the sweet for a walk could be related to dynamic behavioral differences.

The omega’s eyes glittered darkly. “You can’t feel the situation at all… I don’t want to go for a walk… I want you to come with me.”

Seung Gil knew he couldn’t afford to pay for an HT sweet’s company. There was something about the dark-skinned man that drew him in though… He wanted to spend more time around Peach, and he’d just gotten laid, even if it was with his insane childhood sweetheart/sex buddy/it’s super complicated, so that wasn’t driving him. Okay, so she wasn’t actually insane… He forcibly pushed thoughts of Izzy from his mind.

“I don’t think I can pay your HT fees,” Seung Gil admitted, looking at the black tile floor. “I need to send money to my mother; she and my brother are omegas in Seoul.”

When he looked up again, the sweet was staring at him with an expression caught somewhere between confused and impressed. Appraising. Then the happy, careless smile returned to his face before he spoke.

“My little sister lives in Bangkok,” he empathized before returning to his sunny demeanor. “Well, maybe you’ll just come out and find me after you’ve finished in here? Company outside the private rooms has no additional fees.”

“Yeah…” Seung Gil replied, licking his lips. It wasn’t a bad idea to take a moment to compose himself before venturing out onto the floor. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

* * *

Victor stepped off the plane feeling decidedly overexerted, even after he had slept nearly the whole way to Moscow and then St. Petersburg. Yura and Yuuri had done the same. They’d adopted a different seating arrangement from the flight from Fukuoka with Yuuri in the window seat, Victor again on the aisle, and Yuri between them. It was determined that they would sit this way after a brief but important conversation.

_“I’m a Beta now, so it’s ok, right? I can just tell everyone I’m that?” Yura had asked during their discussion of logistics involving forged dynamic papers._

_“No… we should stick with the original plan.” Victor had replied. “We can’t disguise you as Beta if you revert back to Omega… Yuuri’s scent on you wouldn’t be nearly as strong, and I can’t use mine to smudge it even more. We’ll just sleep on you for this whole trip and impart as much scent as possible to you now. When we get there, we’ll introduce you as an alpha as planned.” Since Yuri originally sat down in the window seat again, Victor had nudged Yuuri to switch places with the blonde._

_“We can’t have anyone know that you switch like this…” Yuuri had added as he climbed over his younger mate and contorted his body into a living tunnel to allow Yuri through. “A lot of people probably don’t want this information out there, and you could be in danger.”_

_“Oh, don’t overexaggerate. No one cares enough to hurt me,” Yuri had disagreed with a scoff._

_Victor and Yuuri glanced at each other. “Right… just, let’s be careful, just in case.”_

_Victor had slung Yura’s legs over his own lap and settled his brow against the boy’s head. Yuuri had spent the ten hour flight essentially curled up Yuri’s chest like a great, overgrown cat, scenting the boy’s throat at semi-regular intervals._

Looking back at his mates, it was obvious that they were all a little worse for wear, but Yuuri and Yura were walking together holding hands, looking sleepy and adorable. Yura had a sleep impression on his face from a well-meaning but misplaced pillow, and Yuuri’s hair was a dark, wavy mess. The omega seemed to be faring the best of the three, though… probably because he was used to late or occasional sleepless nights at the sugarhouse.

Yura had a pretty good grip on Victor’s coat, not letting him get too far ahead, as if the alpha ever would. All he wanted was to get home and curl up in bed or on a couch with his mates and sleep all day. Traveling for over 24 hours was hard on anyone; particularly, if those anyones decided to complete their second bond marks in the middle of it. Victor felt a bit discomfited by his inability to wait until they’d arrived at home, but he didn’t regret placing the marks. A slow heat welled up in his chest as he glanced back again. They both smiled drowsily at him. _My mates…_ His fingers twitched.

With the wrist marks so recently placed, he felt a desperate need to have a hand on each of them constantly. In fact, he was probably only managing to control the urge because they had been physically smooshed together for so long on the planes, but it was still  grating on his nerves. Now that they were in St. Petersburg, it was far too dangerous for him to be touching them where people could see. If the story of Yuuri as Omega to Yura’s Alpha was to be believed by anyone, there could be no physical contact between Victor and either mate in public. The throat and wrist marks taken so recently, especially in quick succession, would lead an alpha and omega to become increasingly physically possessive of each other regardless of any newcomers’ dynamic. Meaning Victor couldn’t even set a hand on Yura’s shoulder without people expecting to see a riled omega on his hands. Not to mention it was just impolite to touch recently bonded mates, and Victor refused to be seen as anything but a gentleman.

Victor’s eyes were heavy as he walked off the gangplank, letting out a sigh of relief when he remembered that at least they were taking a shuttle, and he wouldn’t have to drive. Thank God, because he could just see himself falling asleep at the wheel and wrapping the car around a telephone pole; reckless driving was absolutely not acceptable with his mates in the car.  

From behind him, Victor heard a needy omegian whine and turned to see Yuuri. He had one hand clasped tightly in Yura’s and the other extended wantonly in front of him toward Victor.

The alpha gritted his teeth. “I know… I know… Just a few more minutes. Just hold on to Yura.” The now-beta was handling the physical separation better than Yuuri, although if that hand still tugging at Victor’s jacket was any indication, he wasn’t immune to the issue either.

And so they managed. Victor made a point of coming “accidentally” in contact with his mates as often as he could, always immediately “apologizing” afterward. He brushed wrists with Yuuri when they both reached for the same door. He laid his hand on top of Yura’s when they tried to pick up the same suitcase. The two caught on quickly. Yuuri went so far as to regularly stumble into Victor so he could place his hands on the alpha’s back for one brief moment. Yura helpfully asked if Victor would like him to carry one of the bags currently burdening him and leaned against him while pretending to juggle the luggage into a more comfortable hold. Five minutes later, Victor took the bag back so Yura would do it again.

They finally reached the shuttle depot and a found a man waiting for them with a sign inscribed with Victor’s name. He shook hands with the driver and they were ushered to a black sedan. The driver apologized for the vehicle, saying he’d only expected two passengers and would have brought a town car had he known there would be three. He offered the front seat to the alpha for comfort’s sake. Victor thanked him and immediately declined.

The driver shrugged, and the three mates crammed into the back. Yuuri claimed the middle seat, as would be expected between Alphas, and sighed with abject relief when he was pressed against both of his mates’ sides. Victor surreptitiously slid an arm behind his omega’s back so he could feel Yura’s waist pressed against his fingers. All in contact again, they each finally began to relax.

“Where can I take you all, Mr. Nikiforov?” The driver inquired. “Do your companions need to be dropped off elsewhere?”

Victor twitched at the mere idea. He was covering his marks with his beige scarf, which he may as well have been sewn into his skin for how often he was likely to wear it, and leather black gloves under his coat sleeves. Yura and Yuuri wore their marks in open display. The more people that saw them and talked, the better, but it still bothered Victor that people didn’t know that he had laid claim on them. They were _his mates, too_ , after all. He told himself to suck it up and answered the driver.

“No, you can take us all to the address originally given to you. I’ve arranged alternate transportation for once we’ve arrived,” Victor improvised.

If the driver found this odd, he made no comment.

The rest of the ride passed is near silence: the only sounds the slow, controlled breaths of three mates just happy to be able to touch each other. Victor felt an almost hysterical elation come over him when his complex came into view. His mates felt his fervor and lit up, looking out the windows in interest.

The driver pulled up to the curb of the gray high-rise building, and Yura and Yuuri were out in a flash. Victor paid the man and darted out after them. He swiped his entrance card for the front door and forced himself to slow to a walk as he passed by and greeted the receptionist. Glancing behind him, Victor found Yuuri giving the woman a charming smile and wave. Yura was glowering, but that wasn’t unusual.

“Mr. Nikiforov! Welcome back! And congratulations on your presentation, Mr. Plisetsky!” Her eyes scanned the conspicuous bite marks on his throat, before she looked at the boy’s clasped hands with Yuuri. “You traveled to collect a mate? How wonderful!” Katya was a beta, so she wouldn’t smell or feel much from them, but even she could see the obvious marks littering the two. She was also a gossipmonger, which Victor decided to take full advantage of at the moment. The easily excitable woman would have it on five different social media sites in the next five minutes.

He waved an arm out toward his mates, announcing: “May I introduce Mr. Yuuri Katsuki of Japan, Omega to our Yuri’s new Alpha.”

Katya squealed and gushed. The woman really was sweet, if a bit irritating in her superfluity.

“They’ll be staying with me for the time being, what with World’s approaching…” Victor explained.

“It’s a good thing our condos have sound-proofed rooms, Mr. Nikiforov…” Katya commented with a giggle.

“Indeed… Have a good day, Katya.” He raised a silver eyebrow, and she had the grace to look mildly admonished. She still giggled again even with the blush across her cheeks.

Victor used his key card to call the elevator, and he held the door open button while his mates joined him.

After the door closed, Yura immediately leaned back against the stainless steel support bar and grasped it with both hands. He looked up at the security camera and let out a groan at its existence. Victor understood immediately: that camera meant they would have to be separated for a few moments longer.  

Victor tapped his foot rhythmically against the tile and cursed himself for choosing the 21st floor for its view. The impatience in the elevator was palpable, and Victor felt like a magnet was trying to draw him to his mates. A very strong magnet. If Yura’s grip on the support bar was any indication, even the beta was feeling it. Yuuri had attached himself to the youth’s side, arms looped around his younger mate’s waist and face buried against his throat. Victor and Yura stared as the numbers ticked by, trying not to glance at each other. The silver-haired man took the opportunity to select his door key and have it ready.

_Come on, come on, come on! For the love of all things holy hurry up!_

There came a heavy, joint sigh of relief when the elevator finally chimed and the doors slid open.

Victor walked rapidly to door 2103 and immediately slid the key home to open the door. Stepping through into the threshold, he turned back to his mates and suddenly found himself falling backward, propelled by the momentum of two pouncing men that crashed on top of him. He let out some sort of embarrassing “meep” noise and instinctively wrapped an arm around each of them. About 1/50th of Victor thanked himself for purchasing the plush gray carpets. The rest was far more concerned with shielding his mates from the fall, and even while tipping backwards, Victor felt the delicious exhilaration of holding them both again.

“Ooof!” He smacked against the ground, lifting his head to keep it from bouncing. Years of figure skating falling kicked in, telling him falling on his back was a terrible idea, but it’s not as though he had any other options.

“Welcome home,” Victor murmured instead of chastising Yura and Yuuri. How could he have with them clinging to him, scenting both sides of his throat and all but purring?

“Thanks,” Yuuri mumbled back, exhaustion apparent. “Glad to be here.”

Yura leaned his head away and glanced over at Yuuri. “You talking about the place or just being wrapped up in us?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions, Yurio,” the ex-sweet replied, smirking.

“Be nice to me, Alpha, I’ve had a long day!”

“You and me both, kid.”

Victor took the moment to chime in that he had been out of contact with them the most since leaving the plane. Sympathetic faces tilted above him, and the two younger men scrambled off of him to haul him up by an arm each. Yuuri finally shut the front door, and then Yura guided the three of them to the couch and with a wince, darted off to the guest bedroom he often stayed in. He came back with a giant bundle of pillows wrapped in his comforter and plopped it down on top of Yuuri. The dark-haired man let out a little chirp of pleasure and set about arranging them on the couch to his satisfaction.

Then Yura bolted for the kitchen, returning with several bottles of water, some pre-cut fruit, and basic sandwich making supplies. He set all of this on the coffee table.

“I wasn’t staying in there to make them,” he explained at Victor’s amused expression. “It’s too far away.”

Victor nodded in understanding as he moved for Yuuri to finish setting up his little, would-be nest. The ex-sweet gave it final once-over and then a satisfied nod. He carefully pushed Victor down into it and turned to reach for Yura. The beta took the offered hand, and then Victor found himself pleasantly squashed in the middle. It seemed they were willing to pamper him for having to be farther away from them. Sweet things…

Yura grabbed the television remote and announced: “I decree that we stay on this couch together and watch old Olympic videos and everything I can find on the great interwebs of Yuuri’s skating.”

“I accept this as long as no one teases me excessively, and I am intensely cuddled,” Yuuri replied, pulling the soft, blue blanket from the nearby chair and spreading it over them.

A sudden laugh escaped Victor’s mouth. He looked back and forth between them as they smiled at him, clearly pleased to be entertainment for their Alpha.

“You’re both incredible,” he declared, shaking his head slightly in amazement. Here they were. His mates. Willing and happy life partners that seemed entirely determined to immediately change his life for the better. The loneliness that had been building in his home was dissipating as Yuuri’s, and even Yura’s, scent overwhelmed it, mixing with the air originally thick with only Victor’s lemon and honey.

“Damn straight!” Yuuri replied, tucking his head and wiggling under Victor’s arm until he had it around his shoulders.

Yura successfully found the omega on Youtube and announced: “Here, we see Katsuki Yuuri’s junior debut!”

Yuuri groaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So terrible news, my loves. My time off is over, and I'll have to work regular hours like an adult again. For that reason, I'm forced to downgrade my update schedule to once a week. I'm sorry; I don't want to do this! Thanks to all of you wonderful people who are still reading and commenting and sharing; you are all wonderful.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phichit's back story and a bit more SeungChuchu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So it looks like I'll keep Tuesdays as update days, and I'll try my hardest to stick to this schedule! Thank you so much for reading, kudoing, and commenting you guys; it just makes my day to see that you are enjoying this! I hope you like looking into sweetwork in a different country. It took quite a lot of research!
> 
> Plus: see if you can catch the crossover cameo... warm fuzzies for anyone who can find their original cameo in the story... :D

Phichit ventured out from the restroom with a quiet smile on his face. He hadn’t expected to find such an adorably bashful beta hiding in there when he went to check his yukata for spots. Sara had spilled her drink (again) and it had been entirely too close for comfort when the pink cosmopolitan splashed across the table. Sometimes Phichit wondered if she did it on purpose, because then she could cry and look adorable, which made patrons flock to her in an attempt to cheer her up. He had to admit it… she was good. It was a good ploy to attract patron attention and at the same time attempt to get some of her competition off the board for a little while. Then again, that could just be a lingering stain on his memory from his years at the Thai sugarhouse, where everyone had been manipulative.

Phichit sashayed across the dance floor, grasping and squeezing the various hands that reached out to him in friendly recognition. He remembered most of them. Unfortunately, names were not something that clung well to the memory banks of the Thai man’s brain, and it took great effort for him to memorize them all. In fact, Phichit wasn’t even sure what the beta who couldn’t use sinks was called. He had never bothered to learn names in Thailand, so he didn’t have the most practice.

_Gah… I suck at this! How did I even make it to High Tier here?_

Whatever. He had, and that was all that mattered, and the silver lining of Yuuri’s unfortunate departure was the opening of the position of Highest. He wanted it, but he wasn’t sure if he deserved it, honestly.

Phichit would miss his closest friend. Yuuri had been the one to bring him to Yutopia. Phichit’s figure skating life turned out to be particularly similar to Yuuri’s: almost ready to break into the senior level when he ended up presenting Omega. To be fair, Phichit had seen it coming for about 3 months prior to his 19th birthday. He just hadn’t been willing to give up that quarter of a year of skating to go mate hunting. He also may have _forgotten_ to tell his parents and younger sister about his symptoms.

Thus, he’d ended up back at home in Bangkok, terrified under the smothering presence of his Alpha mother. She hadn’t been willing to let him take a beta as a mate and sully the family line. Her words flashed in his memory: “ _Omegas don’t bond Betas. Even sweetworkers don’t choose to bond Beta. Betas end up with Betas, and that’s all there is to it. I’ll never allow you to lower our name that way.”_

Alas, Phichit hadn’t been interested in an Alpha mate. Fuck being controlled all the time. Taking a Thai Alpha mate in Bangkok meant he’d be waiting on the man or woman hand and foot. Thai culture demanded that an omega have breakfast prepared before his or her Alpha woke and dinner ready when his or her mate returned for the day. Omegas were to be kneeling by the edge of the door _waiting_ for their mate to enter so that they could shut it behind them and see if they could tend to any other needs. Phichit had watched his father do it ever since he could remember. He had seen his mother’s wrath when his father made simple mistakes: overcooking the meat or forgetting to dust the dining room. Keerati Chulonont was not a woman to be made light of, but she wasn’t cruel. She stuck to the normal societal punishments: locking her husband in a dark room by himself for a night or denying food for a day.

Phichit scowled. At least, he had thought it was normal when he was growing up. Traveling for figure skating had opened up a library of information, and Phichit was never putting the books back. It turned out those types of things were only normal for Thai Omegas who just so happened to be mated to Thai Alphas. And he sure as hell didn’t want to be in that situation.

So, what was he to do? A newly presented omega living in his mother’s house in Bangkok with little money to his name and nothing to do with himself? He took up sweetwork.

* * *

  _Phichit dragged his feet as he walked into La Belle with a sigh. He’d been working there for a year now, and every night passing through the doors made him wish he could burn his contract and quit. The house mistress, Muramoto Satsuki, glared at him as he walked into the entrance hall and past the long rows of sweets sitting behind glass on little stools. None of the Fishbowl sweets acknowledged him, but he smiled at them all anyway as he made his way farther into the sugarhouse._

_He passed through the lounge and nodded at the few High Tier Sideline sweets reclining on their plushy couches, drinks in hand. They paused in their conversations as Phichit walked by. He grinned at them, but they remained expressionless and only resumed conversing when he was taking the wide staircase up to the next floor. He was jealous of their flashy going-out attire. Making it as a Sideline was so much easier and more enjoyable than a Fishbowl. They didn’t have to be in formal dress, and they could actually speak to patrons prior to being selected. They also were generally chosen for full-night presentations, which made it much easier to make quota. The hard part was getting to be a Sideline in the first place…It was Phichit’s goal._

_The red room was darkened, as usual, with the little curtained-off areas mostly empty this early in the night. Phichit hated the curtained stalls where the Fishbowl sweets brought their patrons for services. Reaching from the floor to about 7 feet in height, the heavy, red, velvet curtains had a habit of filling with dust and needed to be beat out every other day to stay clean. He and the other Fishbowls did it once every couple of weeks, if they had time. Perpetually dusty and with an unfortunate lack of privacy, thirtysome stalls were available, side-by-side, lining the hallway. Hearing the moans and pants and pillowtalk of other patrons and sweets while one was working might have been sexy to some, but Phichit would have worn earplugs and a dustmask if he were allowed._

_Phichit strode past the mostly empty stalls on his way to the dressing room; their front curtains drawn back to reveal only enough space for the twin bed and nightstand. The dearth of patronage wasn’t surprising for this early in the night._

_Finally, he pulled open the wooden door hidden in the corner of the room. The chaos of the dressing room was in full swing with several dozen sweets tearing about to do their hair and makeup. Women and kathoeys wiggled into satin gowns, and men did up the buttons on their shirts and suit jackets. Metal lockers slammed as they all locked up their street clothes and valuables. Phichit wormed his way through the mess of bodies to his own locker and spun the combination lock with his other hand blocking the view from prying eyes. 4-30-97. His code was his birthday, but it didn’t matter because no one in the sugarhouse knew it, not even Mamasan Muramoto. No one had ever asked, and he didn’t have any friends. Sweets didn’t make friends at La Belle._

_Quotas were too high for all the Fishbowl sweets to meet them, so sabotage was common. Phichit had had dung smeared in his boots, itching powder put in his hair gel, and many a bucket of dirty water thrown at him on the way back out to the entrance hall. And that was just naming a few._

_Phichit usually made his weekly quota regardless, and he knew why. After changing into black suit and a tight red dress shirt, he slicked his hair to the side and applied concealer to the dark circles under his eyes and a couple blemishes. Then he pulled out his phone and snapped a selfie of himself winking and pulling his jacket open to show a nice view of his figure. A couple of filters and a quick crop later, and he was uploading it immediately to his Instagram and several other social media accounts under the handle sweet_phichit. “Sweet Phichit is open for business at La Belle tonight! Come on by and pull me from behind the glass! <3 <3 <3”_

_He had a pretty impressive number of followers, and he seemed to draw in enough to satisfy his house mistress and annoy the crap out of the other sweets._

_After securely locking up his things, Phichit returned to the entrance hall to take his seat on stool #87. He liked being closer to the end of the line; patrons tended to walk the entire way in to take a look at all of their options, and then select one there instead of walking back to find someone else: laziness at its most useful. Numbers above 80 were coveted, but the rank was based on quota-fill except for the last 5 numbers. 95-100 were assigned randomly to try to pull sweets out of quota debts._

_He opened the glass door and walked carefully behind the already seated fishbowl sweets in the odd numbers from 99 to 89 and then took his seat and leaned back on his hands to cross his legs. An average night would bring 6 to 10 patrons for Phichit. Since presenting patrons normally selected Sideline sweets (who worked in one and a half hour slots), Fishbowls had their nights slotted into thirty minutes intervals, and patrons paid by the half hour. He was used to the fast pace. More patrons meant meeting quota, and meeting quota meant getting paid. Getting paid meant one more week that he could pay rent and avoid his mother’s house._

_Occasionally, Phichit had a patron that asked him to bond, invariably Alphas. It was obnoxious, but he appreciated the sentiment. Didn’t they know that he could have bonded some attractive, wealthy alpha whenever he wanted? His mother was still pushing them at him, trying to get him to stop sweetwork and “utterly destroying their family reputation.” Now,_ that _made Phichit smile. He loved getting under her skin. He loved his mother, yes, she had been very good to him through his childhood, but he hated everything she stood for and everything she had done since he presented. He’d even considered freelance sweetwork, which while technically not illegal in Thailand was highly frowned upon by sugarhouses. His mother had actually cried when he brought it up, but that may actually have been due to the extreme dangers of the profession rather than her worry about the family name. He hoped that had been the case anyway. In the end, he had to admit it really was too dangerous. Memories of his figure skating friend Yuuri getting caught on the streets had clinched the decision to work at a reputable sugarhouse._

_The bell sounded the opening of the sugarhouse, and Phichit was saved from his thoughts turning too morbid. Mamasan opened the front doors, all smiles and laughs and waving in patrons with broad sweeps of her arms. Alphas and Betas streamed in. They walked along the sides of the hall, perusing the merchandise._

_Fishbowl sweets had their work cut out for them: attract patrons instantly without words or scent. Phichit knew his shtick; afterall, it had literally been assigned to him when he started working at La Belle. Mamasan had informed him that he was to be an ultimate omega: bright eyes and smiles and naiveté and this is my first time please be gentle! He was to be a literal sweetie pie sugar face plum pudding of an omega. Just a little coy, but never sour. Just a little shy, but never unwilling. Always interested and excited and just a bit confused and overwhelmed._

_It had been rough going at the beginning for Phichit. It just wasn’t his personality, being a normally easygoing guy, but he practiced, and he watched the others with assigned similar marketing strategies. Now, he could be the cute, bubbly little thing that he was supposed to be. But sweetwork at La Belle had made Phichit perceptive and shrewd. Beneath his pastry puff shell and brilliant smile, Phichit missed nothing that went on around him. He knew who the other sweets really were, despite their masks, and he knew how to get what he wanted from them, if need be._

_Today was no exception. His neighbors in the entrance hall, Hathai and Dang, stood and wandered down the line as the patrons approached. Each had a reason for making themselves scarce, and Phichit’s long, slender fingers pulled the strings that tugged them from their seats. He’d found them practicing their charms on each other. Omega-omega relationships were strictly forbidden at La Belle. They both would be thrown out if Mamasan had an inkling that such was the case.  But Phichit was reasonable: they just had to move away from him whenever he was luring patrons, to make him stand out a bit, and they were both in the clear._

_Phichit smiled shyly at an alpha walking past and pressed his palm to the glass. The man stopped and stared at him before a moment before he placed his own hand on the other side._

_The house mistress yelled something at Phichit about fingerprints and docked wages, but he ignored her, holding the alpha’s eyes and coercing his mind to temper his own with just a hint of silver. When gold flickered once in the alpha’s eyes, he knew he had succeeded: both in intentionally altering his eye color and in gaining his first patron of the night. Quota was measured in time booked, not total patrons serviced, so if Phichit could manage to get a patron to pay for a couple of hours, he had done himself a favor. This alpha looked like he might want to rent out one of the VIP rooms and keep Phichit for the entire night._

_Phichit’s patron tapped twice on the glass, and the sweet smirked internally, pleased to have been successful so quickly with an alpha he hadn’t previously serviced before. One of Mamasan’s betas spoke with the man, and money was exchanged. Quite a lot of money for a Fishbowl Sweet, Phichit noticed. The beta tapped twice on the glass in front of Phichit and he immediately stood from his stool, beaming and blowing a kiss at his patron._

_The fucking alpha pretended to catch it and put it in his pocket for later. Phichit groaned internally and plastered his trademarked adorable “Please love me!” expression across his face: wide eyes looking up through his lashes and a slightly open-mouth smile, licking his upper lip every so often in false nervousness._

_He made his way back to the glass exit door, hopping over the occasional lashed out leg of an omega saboteur. Mamasan’s beta was waiting for him there with the patron._

_“Alpha,” she introduced, “This is Phichit. Please be gentle with him; he can be a bit shy, but once he opens up to you I’m sure you’ll be quite pleased with the result.”_

_Phichit obediently looked at the floor in mock nervousness. He had heard that introduction hundreds of times._

_“Omega,” she continued, “Your patron has booked your time for the next 4 hours. You may see to him in VIP room 3.” She scribbled in her log book and handed Phichit a receipt for his quota._

_Rooms 1 – 3 were the most lavish VIP rooms. Each contained a jacuuzi, and that meant Phichit would be required to perform one of La Belle’s famous soapy massages. So the alpha wanted a proper date; that was just fine with Phichit. He didn’t have much experience working the VIP rooms, but he didn’t much think the alpha would care given his delighted expression. Actually, said lack of experience could only improve Phichit’s façade...  
_

* * *

Phichit was pulled from his reverie by a lean body flopping down onto the couch beside him. He blinked. It was the bathroom beta.

“You made it!” Phichit squealed. Well, obviously he’d come. The man had been all but drooling over Phichit earlier. But seriously, asking to leave the sugarhouse together for free entertainment? Phichit clicked his tongue in a small “tch.” Well, at least this one had balls if not etiquette.

“Indeed,” The man said, a hint of amusement on his lips. “I asked your bartender if it would be appropriate to buy you a drink, and he made this for me.” He pushed a tumbler of clear liquid on ice across the table toward the sweet.

Phichit thanked him and picked it up, sniffing the contents delicately. Gin and tonic.

_So Captain’s still pissed at me for spilling that bottle of pineapple juice on his bar yesterday…_

Phichit hated gin, and now he was going to have to drink it regardless to avoid being rude to the man who had purchased it for him. He took a sip and hid a wince. It tasted like he was trying to drink a pine tree. Whoever had decided it was a good idea to invent gin was a complete idiot. Not only was the alcohol of choice a problem, but the drink didn’t match Phichit’s chosen character at all. Normally, he chose something flashy and frozen: pina coladas with bright umbrellas or blue margaritas accented with spiral straws.

The beta tapped Phichit’s shoulder. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

Phichit considered answering with the clichéd “I don’t know, can you?” response but instead just nodded.

“Your bartender is an omega, right? Don’t sugarhouses usually only employ omegas for sweetwork and have betas take all of the other positions?”

Phichit chuckled, unnecessarily swirling the liquid in his glass as an excuse to not actually drink it. “You’re right; normally an omega wouldn’t be working a bar. But this is Yutopia, and that’s Captain.” Maybe he should just chug it… then at least it would be gone.

“Right, so in other words…?”

“Yutopia is different from most other sugarhouses, even other sugarhouses in Japan. Our house mistress is honestly a good woman. I love Yuko-san! And Captain, well… Captain can take better care of himself than most alphas, so he can manage the bar fine. When he didn’t want to do sweetwork, Yuko-san let him take that position.” He took another sip of his god-awful drink and failed to cover a wince.

The beta’s dark eyes narrowed. “Does he dislike you?”

Phichit turned to look at the beta. “Not that I know of… very few people here actively dislike each other. Yuko-san generally only hires people that keep the peace. He can be a bit volatile, though. Why do you ask?”

The man crossed his arms. “I was just wondering why he would send me with a drink you clearly hate; I figured he either disliked you or wanted to screw with me… The other thing I don’t understand is: why are you drinking it?”

Phichit slowly turned his entire body to look at the other man. “I don’t…hate it…” He lied.

Seung Gil raised a dark eyebrow, completely unimpressed. “So you have to drink whatever is given to you, eh?” He took the drink out of Phichit’s hand and raised it to his lips, draining it. Then, he set the glass down heavily on the table. “Oh no, looks like that one’s gone. Guess I’ll have to get you something else. Tell me what you actually like.” 

Phichit felt a genuine smile threatening to creep onto his face to overwhelm the shy expression he’d been holding. This guy was quite perceptive… it was rare for Phichit to meet someone like that while on the job. He knew he should ask for something fruity, so he could keep within his act, but honestly, he was sick of all the sugary crap. Just this once, he was going to ask for something he actually wanted.

“I like... honestly, I’d just really like a beer. Singha, if he has it.”

The beta got up from the couch and strode back toward the bar. He waited for Captain to notice him. The little omega was being chatted up by that green-eyed alpha for the 4th night in a row. Hopefully, the brunet man would eventually get it through his apparently thick skull that Captain didn’t do sweetwork. Then again, Captain hadn’t asked for his suitor to be removed, so it must be amusing him at least to some degree.

The raven-haired beta made his way back to Phichit with two glass bottles in hand. “He didn’t have Singha, so I asked for Chang. Hope that’s all right.”

Phichit felt a bit of warmth glow inside him. It was silly… finding it endearing that some beta knew his Thai beers.

“You’re Thai, right, Peach?” The beta asked. “So I figured…”

“What’s your name again?” Phichit interrupted, suddenly realizing he wanted to know. “I remember that you like to be called it instead of by your dynamic.”

“Seung Gil….”

“I’m sorry…” Phichit lowered his eyes, giggling. “I’m not great with names…”

Seung Gil smiled softly, the thin curve contradicted by the narrowing of his eyes. “That’s fine. I imagine you meet a million and one people while you work. We’re just patrons after all, right?”

Phichit grimaced. Seung Gil’s response had somehow managed to be both sympathetic and sharp. For some reason, he found himself wanting to make up the faux pas to the man.

“It’s not like that,” he denied, shaking his head and moving his hands placatingly. It really wasn’t. Yutopia wasn’t La Belle; things were different here. “I’m just really, really bad with names, and normally I don’t bother about it, but…”

Seung Gil raised both his eye brows this time. Apparently, since he didn’t make many facial expressions, they were the things to watch if Phichit was going to get a read on his patron. Seung Gil reclined back against the couch and stretched an arm out along its back behind Phichit. “Rather forthright for a sweet, aren’t you?”

That was a good question… Why had Phichit just told him that?

“Not normally…” he muttered and took a sip of his beer.

“Do you ever actually get to be yourself here?” Seung Gil asked. “I’ve noticed you’ve been acting a bit differently than earlier.” The man’s arm rested along the back of the couch; it didn’t actually touch Phichit, but he swore he could feel the heat coming off it.

“What do you mean? This is me! Sweet Phichit, at your service!” The sweet felt flustered. Had he really behaving so out-of-character when they’d first met? He turned away and looked at the floor.

“Is that your real name then?” Seung Gil questioned, actual surprise raising the pitch of his voice. “Thank you…”

Phichit gave up. He set the beer bottle down on the table, closed his eyes, and buried his face in his hands. He hadn’t once referred to himself as “Sweet Phichit” since he had come to Yutopia three years earlier. He took a deep breath and tried to figure out what was going on with himself.  With that deep breath he inhaled a scent; it was just beyond his perception but Phichit found himself desperately wanting to identify what it smelled like. It was driving him out of whack. He wasn’t responding rationally to the situation, and he wasn’t controlling his emotions well. All this thought of his past life in Bangkok and the idea that some _Beta_ had seen straight through him had set him on edge… Then again, not a lot of betas came to call on Phichit at Yutopia. Maybe they were the only ones who could stay cognizant enough around his peaches and cream scent to actually see through him.

A hand settled lightly on Phichit’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

He looked up. Seung Gil was leaning over him, great concern filling his eyes. The hand resting on Phichit was feather light. So careful. So very cautious this man was with Phichit.

_Does he think he’ll break me? No… He just doesn’t want me to send him away…_

“Yeah… yeah, sorry. Let’s just change the subject. What do you do for a living Seung Gil?” Phichit leaned into the raven-haired man and felt him stiffen. His eyes widened in shock. Phichit laughed lightly and pulled the arm from behind him down around his shoulders. Well, the jig was up, anyway. The guy already knew he wasn’t some shy, blushing thing, surprised and excited by the tiniest things. May as well have some fun.

It was Seung Gil’s turn to blanch. He couldn’t seem to comprehend how he had come to find his arms around the sweet. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, trying to contain himself. Phichit smirked. It never hurt to have his self-esteem boosted.

“Research. I do research on dynamics,” Seung Gil summarized.

Phichit cocked his head to the side. “Dynamics?”

“Mmm. Especially Omegian dynamics.” The beta seemed to have gotten over his discomfort and tightened his arm around Phichit, dropping his hand down to set it on the Thai man’s waist. “It’s extremely interesting, and I actually think I’m close to a breakthrough.”

“Oh?” Phichit turned eagerly, for once actually interested in a patron’s profession. “Why did you go into that? Did you have to go to a school for a long time? Do you work with anyone? What’s this breakthrough??”

Seung Gil’s face finally broke from its normal lack of expression into a broad grin, and Phichit felt something light up inside him. He was so glad to have pleased the other man. For once foregoing his regular internal analysis of a new emotion, he let the pleasant feeling flow through him and smiled back.

Seung Gil tipped his head to press his forehead against Phichit’s for a moment before pulling back. “Okay now, what was that first question?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> La Belle is in fact a brothel/massage parlor what-have-you in Bangkok, but I've taken a great deal of liberties with its layout. Sideline and Fishbowl "models" are exactly as described in the story: Fishbowl models are behind glass, and Sideline models can be conversed with before paying for their time and services. 
> 
> "Mamasan," while derogatory for a Japanese geisha house, ryokan, or inn owner (Okami-san is safe), is often used as a title of a brothel owner, and it seemed to fit here on Phichit's canon-coach/AU house mistress. It doesn't mean mother, either (Okaa-san). Just never call anyone Mamasan, lolz. I wanted Phichit to be a little unpleasant in his thoughts of her.
> 
> For those missing our main three: they'll be back next chapter!
> 
> And remember: if there's anything you want to see happen, let me know! It just might make it in.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seung Gil plots a bit.
> 
> Our boys make it to the rink and meet Yakov, Georgi, and Mila.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm pissy because I copied this chapter in here hours ago and got carried away making edits to it. (Like an idiot. I know. I usually do it in word and save it every 45 seconds out of habit.) And then I fell asleep. My computer had a fit at some point and I woke up to find it had decided to follow my lead and pass out as well. I'd even copied the text earlier, but no cigar. Gone forever. So, alas, you get the slightly less enjoyable version of this chapter, and that makes me very sad. But if I try to re-edit it now, I'll break some objects of moderate value. Give me a bit of a break if it isn't my best work.
> 
> There's a Bonus at the end, though!

Izzy watched the blood spin down in the centrifuge with more impatience than she thought could possibly build up in any one person. She had run her tests and was now double-checking them with a second sample. The results hadn’t been what she expected.

Contrasting Yuri’s blood as an omega against his blood as a beta didn’t show any tangible differences. When Katsuki called, he had mentioned that Yuri was likely Beta-O at the moment, although he had spent a bit of time as Beta-A. That is if Izzy’s hypotheses on the genetics behind the dynamics were actually correct.

Staring at the agarose gel electrophoresis and Ion Torrent sequencing results, she could think of only one more option that might make sense: Epigenetics. Secondary gender might be carried on the epigenome. How Izzy was going to test this, she wasn’t quite sure. That was likely something Seung Gil would have to help determine.

Nonetheless, Izzy would have to go to St. Petersburg. She had missed her opportunity to take blood from Yuri during one of his switches, and she didn’t intend to miss another. Seung Gil would likely be willing to watch over her clinic and see any emergency patients, and she would reschedule her regular appointments.

She grabbed her cell and dialed the Korean man’s number. It rang several times and she frowned. Usually Seung Gil picked up on the first couple of rings. Finally, the sound cracked, and his voice came through surrounded by a blare of music.

“Lee Seung Gil,” He greeted oh-so-warmly. Typical.

“Hey, I…. where are you?” Izzy asked, curiosity flickering into her voice.

“Clearly, I’m out. I imagine you can hear the music? I’m also simultaneously doing research.” His response was dry, and he followed it with a small chuckle.

“Out where?” Seung Gil did not go out. Seung Gil practically lived in his lab…

“Yutopia, Omega side. Thought I’d see where Katsuki’s home turf was, and if there’s anything out of the ordinary. Anyway, it’s hard to hear you, so I’m going to let you go.”

“Yutopia?! Wait, I need to talk to you about some results—“

“Ah…. Damn static…. KShhhskhshsh…. Yeah…. Bye Izzy!”

“Are you making that static noise with your voice?!?!” She cried incredulously.

The line went dead. That bastard had hung up on her.

People should not hang up on Isabella Yang. Actually, no one should hang up anyone; it was just plain rude. Highly irritated, and not just a little confused, she traded her lab coat for her jacket and stomped out of the lab to her car.

The better part of an hour later, she found herself greeting Nishigori at Yutopia’s front desk.

“Izzy-sensei! How are you?” The woman was probably very surprised to see her, but likely her years of sugarhouse mistress work had given her great practice at shielding her expressions and emotions.

Izzy knew what she really wanted to ask: “What the hell are you doing here?” She decided to be kind and answer that question, too.

“I’m well, Nishigori-san, thank you for asking. Actually, I’m here to see Seung Gil about a bit of work. He told me he was here.” Izzy settled a forearm on the high desk in front of her.

The house mistress frowned. “Ah… You know I can’t reveal the names of any of our patrons…” Then her mouth twisted up into a little half-smile. “But if you’d like to come in for the evening, I’ll give you a discount. It is your first visit, after all.”

That was as good as a confirmation as Izzy was likely to get. She agreed to the terms readily. Nishigori charged her a pittance, likely just for her records, and she helped Izzy through the forms and blood draw with rapid, practiced ease.

“Aaand sign here…. Initial here…. All set! Thank you for choosing Yutopia, let me take you to our main floor.”

Nishigori winked and flicked two fingers over her shoulder in a follow-me gesture. Izzy hurriedly obeyed. She was lead to a large red door. The house mistress pushed it open and vibrant music escaped. Yuko swung a hand palm up forward away from her chest. “If you please, Beta…” she offered cordially.

Izzy stepped through the door frame and took stock of the people around her. Her eyes glossed over the dancing sweets and patrons. Some sat around the bar drinking. Others had holed up in little couples or groups on red couches. A pair of laughing, dark-haired men caught her attention.

It took her a moment to realize that one of them was _Seung Gil._ She hadn’t seen the man really smile or laugh in… Well, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen the stoic beta actually express much other than ire, irritation, sadness, or other negative emotions. Well, outside of bed anyway, but he definitely didn’t laugh then, either.

Izzy edged around the crowd until she reached the curtained-off area and then approached her friend.

As she drew close, he noticed her, and she watched as his expression shuttered to a close, leaving only the hooded eyes and vague frown with which she was most familiar.

“Seung Gil?” The other man asked, pulling on his arm. Then he also turned to look in Izzy’s direction.

“Izzy-sensei!” He cried happily, bouncing up from the couch and running to her.

“Peach,” Izzy replied in the sudden recognition of one of her patients. “I see you’ve commandeered my colleague there.” If her voice was a little less warm than usual, he didn’t seem to notice.

He came to a sudden halt in front of her. “Oh, you work together? But Seung Gil said he works in a lab, and I’ve never seen him when I’ve come for an appointment with you…” The omega frowned and tapped a finger to his cheek.

“Ah, I do research with him as well. That’s why,” she clarified.

He seemed satisfied with that answer, hugging her and then grabbing her hand and tugging her back with him to his spot on the couch.

“Sit with us!”

Peach was as happy and bubbly as usual: always an incredibly pleasant fellow, shy when confronted with strangers but open and excitable around those with whom he was familiar. Izzy liked him. As the sugarhouse’s physician, she knew details about most of the sweets’ previous lives before coming to Yutopia. She was particularly glad that Peach had made it here.

“All right,” she answered, as if she had any choice in the matter as he dragged her behind him. “I need to talk to Seung Gil about some work matters.”

“Is it about the breakthrough?!” Peach squealed, tugging her down to sit next to him.

“You told him about our work?” Izzy hissed at Seung Gil.

He raised one of his thick, dark eye brows at her. “I didn’t see the harm in a general discussion. He was interested, and he has first-hand knowledge on the subject.”

“Oh, don’t worry, silly!” Peach soothed, patting Izzy’s hand. “I won’t say anything to anyone about it unless Seung Gil tells me I can.” Then he winked and cupped one hand to the side of his mouth to mock whisper. “No really, I can’t. It’s in our confidentiality agreement, so all your secrets are safe with me.”

The Korean man drew Peach more firmly against his side, having slipped his arm back around his waist. The sweet giggled.

“And we appreciate that very much. I know how great you are keeping things private.” Seung Gil praised.

Peach’s head bobbed up and down before he settled it against his patron’s shoulder. Izzy forced herself not to glare.

_What is this anyway? He doesn’t need to pay for sex; he could just ask me. Maybe he just wants someone to love on him for a night?_

“Izzy, why are you here?” Seung Gil asked flatly. “Telling you where I was wasn’t an invitation to join.”

“You hung up on me and wouldn’t answer your phone again, and I have to tell you some things.”

“It couldn’t wait until tomorrow morning?” He further inquired.

“No. I need to book a ticket to see Katsuki as soon as possible. I need to be there. This delayed data I’m getting isn’t enough!” Izzy explained. “And I need to talk to you about my findings before I go, _and_ I need you to see any emergency patients while I’m gone. You still have your license and CE’s up to date, right?”

Peach whipped around to face her, dark eyes wide. “Wait, you’re going to see Yuuri?” Then he turned back to his patron. “He’s part of your research?”

“Yes, we’re monitoring his bond with his mate,” Seung Gil elaborated, stroking the omega’s hip. Then he looked to Izzy, and his face twisted. “So much for keeping the details under wraps. I suppose I’m just supposed to drop everything and do your work for you? I could go to see him instead, you know.”

Izzy felt her cheeks heat up. Okay, so maybe the scientist hadn’t divulged as much as she thought. She mentally chastised herself for jumping to conclusions. Of course, Seung Gil wouldn’t explain the minutia to a sweet. He knew how classified it needed to be.

“Because… because he’s more familiar with me. Additionally, you and I both know that I blend in better. I’m the one who should go to St. Petersburg.”

“I want to go!” A new voice sang out from behind Izzy. She and the two men turned around to find a pretty, young woman with long dark hair.

“Hello, Starla.” Izzy greeted. “How are you?”

Starla ignored the question entirely. “Please, can I go with you Izzy-sensei? I can pay my own way. I haven’t gone anywhere in forever. I can be your assistant!”

Omegas generally didn’t travel alone for multiple reasons. In some countries it was illegal for foreign omegas to be outside the presence of a guardian beta or alpha. In some cases, only an alpha was acceptable. Even in countries like Japan, where omegas could travel freely, they usually didn’t for fear of discrimination or persecution. It wasn’t particularly surprising for an omega to jump at the chance to go visit a new place if a friend of a different dynamic could look after them.

Izzy sighed. The girl probably hadn’t left Hasetsu since she started sweetwork here.

“You should take her,” Peach pushed. “She’s been so good lately; she deserves to go on vacation. And Seung Gil will watch after us at the clinic. Right?” He tugged at the Korean man’s shirt.

A slow smirk of recognition rolled up on Seung Gil’s face that Izzy didn’t particularly understand. “Sure. Why not? Go on and collect data, Izzy. I’ll take care of your patients. That is, as long as you leave tonight and take this lovely sweet with you.”

“Tonight?” Izzy was confused. First he didn’t want her to go, and now she had to leave immediately? _What the hell?_

“It’s a long journey… you’re not going to get there for at least a day. I insist you get going. You can call and talk to me about anything else you need to during one of your lay-overs.”

Izzy considered. It wouldn’t be any great difficulty to leave tonight. She could stop by home and get some things, and she could have Starla book the flights on the way to the airport. Likely, the girl would be helpful with taking care of little inconvenient tasks while Izzy was working, and she really did want to give her a break from the monotony of sweetwork. Izzy would have to put the omega under her name, of course, to avoid any problems getting through security.

Thoughts continued to pile up in Izzy’s mind, and one after the other pointed her in the direction of acquiescing to Seung Gil’s strange requests. Finally, she decided she didn’t care why he wanted her or the female sweet gone.

“All right. Starla, pack your things, we leave as soon as you’re ready!”

“What?!” The sweet cried. “No, I can’t leave right now! It’s really important that I be here for just the next couple of days, can’t we leave after that?”

“No.” Seung Gil snapped, cold amusement lining his words. “You go with her now, or I don’t look after her patients, and she doesn’t get to go at all.”

Izzy turned begging eyes on Starla. “Please, I really need to get there. You don’t have to pay for your ticket or anything, I’ll take care of it. You want to go don’t you? What’s wrong with leaving now?”

Starla’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Peach. The boy smiled back at her, beaming with pleasure.

“You told him.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about, Starla.”

She scowled. “Fine. Looks like you’ll be taking a mate soon, anyway, and then the position will be open again.’

Izzy looked from Seung Gil’s expressionless face to Starla’s rage-filled one to Peach’s sunny smile. Something was going on with open positions? Again, she decided she didn’t care. Her research was much more important than whatever temporary topic had gotten them into a spat.

“Excellent!” Izzy stood and reached across the couch to grab the girl’s hand. “Let’s go get you packed!” She turned back to Seung Gil. “And thank you for this.”

The Korean man simply nodded, and when Peach leapt into his lap to hug him, Seung Gil’s lips actually curved into a small smile. Izzy shook her head, confused, and tugged Starla after her toward the entrance.

* * *

Vitya drove them to their home rink at Yubileyny Sports Club. It wasn’t too far from the alpha’s place, but still not close enough to walk, especially in the windy -5C that mother nature graced upon them. Yuri was taking advantage of his back seat position to tease Yuuri mercilessly about the videos they had watched the previous night (from a distance to prevent himself getting whacked.)

“I have to say that lavender outfit with the cape was a stroke of genius, Yuuri,” He deadpanned, trying desperately to hold in his laughter.

Yuuri shifted in the passenger seat and turned so he could look at Yuri. “Shut it, you. I’m sure you have some truly impressive costumes from your junior days as well,” he huffed.

“No really, seriously, honestly, truly; that was fantastic. And the split jump where you actually fell on the ice in the splits?” Yuri didn’t quite know why he was getting such a kick out of teasing his Alpha… but he was. It didn’t seem to really bother the ex-sweet, who rolled along effortlessly with the teasing and responded with his own little snide remarks.

“I seem to remember a particular outfit you wore to an exhibition when you were 15, Yura…” Vitya commented, glancing in the rearview mirror to look at Yuri. “Weren’t you sporting a giant gold cross and enough eye shadow to rival Georgi’s Sleeping Beauty program? Yakov was so mad at you for tossing Lilia’s choreography aside and skating… what did she call it? Prostitute Gangsters on Ice?”

 _How dare he?!_ Yuri scowled. He had been especially proud of his Welcome to the Madness exhibition. And Georgi’s make-up job had been on point. “First of all, she called it _Mafia_ Prostitutes on Ice. Second, it was a great exhibition, and that costume was amazing. Third—“

Vitya interrupted his defense. “Now before I say this, I’d like to point out that I’m only doing it, because you were making fun of Yuuri. To continue, you were what? 160 centimeters tall then Yura? You could barely pull off post-pubescent.”

“I demand to see pictures of this,” Yuuri stated. “It’s only fair."

“I was simultaneously adorable and sexy; I will hear nothing against that program,” Yuri persisted, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his nose in the air.

Yuuri raised the headrest on his seat so he could peer at his younger mate through the gap between it and seat. “Then let me see it!” Yuri could only see his eyes, which were sparkling with mirth.

“No,” Yuri denied, bringing his arms up to place his forearms into an X. “It may not have carried through the years as well as I remember. I want to keep the memory pristine.”

“What does that have to do with _me_ watching it?” Yuuri protested.

Yuri remained steadfast. “If you watch it, you’ll tell me about it, and I can’t have that. Be a good alpha, now.’

Vitya shifted and pulled his cell from his pocket. “Here, I think it’s still on my phone from 4 years ago,” he said with a chuckle, handing his phone to Yuuri.

“No! Stop that! I don’t agree with this!!”

Yuuri did, in fact, succeed in viewing the exhibition. It seemed to take him great effort to keep his composure. After watching it twice and hiding his face in his hands for a moment, he finally voiced his opinion: “Come on Victor; he was pretty cute. He was so little, but he could still jump so high!”

Yuri attempted to strangle Vitya with his scarf, but he was thwarted by Yuuri’s annoying agility (he stole the scarf) and their arrival at the rink.

The three arrived at Yubileyny just as the snow began to fall. They found a decent parking spot, and Victor and Yuri grabbed their bags. Yuri tugged open the passenger door before Yuuri had a chance. He took hold of one of Yuuri's gloved hands and wove their fingers together. “Come, my beautiful mate, let me introduce you to the plebeians.”

“Don’t let any of them hear you say that. They’re so dramatic, they’ll probably be actually offended.” Vitya murmured behind a hand clearly hiding a smile.

Yuri rolled his eyes and mouthed to Yuuri: “Yeah, only _they’re_ dramatic. As if he’s not…”

“As if _you’re_ not?” Yuuri countered.

“I’m not even going to justify that with a reply,” Yuri said before tugging his mate over to the large ice rink. He was feeling particularly excellent. Having Yuuri so physically near him made it easier to feel close to his mate, and he was so excited to show him off. He’d won the jackpot, and he knew it. Ok, and he was a bit happy to get back on the ice, too.

Yuuri allowed himself to be dragged about while he whipped his head around, trying to see every inch of the huge, decadent complex. When he saw the ice rink, a look of longing overwhelmed his face. He swallowed and took a deep breath before questioning, “Do a lot of professional skaters train here?”

“Oh yeah, loads. Speaking of, here’s our little crew coming up now.”

_Soon, Yuuri. Soon you’ll be back on the ice like you never left it._

Yakov stomped along the edge of the rink until he reached Yuri and the others. Mila and Georgi followed along with a few of the newer skaters. “Welcome back, Vitya, Yurochka,” he greeted, voice as rough as usual. “And who is this?”

“Ah, Yakov, Georgi, Mila, everyone, I’d like to introduce my mate: Katsuki Yuuri.” Yuri slipped an arm around the small of his alpha's back.

Mila squealed in excitement and began bouncing on the balls of her feet. She made a move to reach out and grab Yuuri’s hands, but the ex-sweet primly shied away. Georgi slapped at her outstretched fingers. “Stop that, you want Yura to try and kill you? You’re an alpha, and they only just bonded; don’t touch his mate!”

Mila shook him off with annoyance but at least had the grace to look mildly mollified. She kept her hands to herself after that, muttering “Not my fault he’s so freaking cute… Yurotchka has good taste.”

Yakov ignored the pair and stared at his ex-student in disbelief. “You bonded someone during your presentation trip?”

 “It was… unexpected…” Vitya commented, clapping the older man on the shoulder. “None-the-less, Yuuri is a wonderful person and will make a very suitable mate for Yura.”

“I see… and you met him…”

“He guided my presentation at Yutopia in Hasetsu,” Yuri explained briefly. He found himself immensely glad for Georgi’s help. He had actually forgotten he was supposed to be angry when others, Alphas in particular, touched Yuuri. It would have been highly suspicious for him not to react accordingly.

Realizing who _would_ be angry about such a thing, Yuri glanced over at Vitya to see him with his fists knotted tightly in his coat pockets, a strained smile on his face. _Oh yeah, thank god for Georgi._

“Only you would manage to bond a sweet during your presentation, Yura…” Georgi commented with a rueful shake of his head. “You lucky bastard. He’s lovely; congratulations to you both.” Mila chimed in her agreement as well.

Yakov grunted. “I… all right. So you’ll be needing a lot of breaks to smoosh yourselves against each other, I assume. This was a rather inconvenient time to start a bond, Yurotchka, but I suppose that’s on you and Vitya.”

Yuuri scowled and spoke up, his voice cross. “My alpha disagrees. He is, in fact, particularly pleased with this decision and with me. Not all things can be planned, and spontaneity it what keeps us alive.” He crossed his arms over his chest and looked all the world like he wasn’t addressing a much older, seasoned alpha.

Yakov looked at Yuuri for a moment, before barking out a laugh. “Ok, I get it. You actually found an omega that suits you, Yurotchka. You have spirit, Katsuki; I like that.”

Yuuri immediately looked at the ground, but Vitya laughed.

_Suits me? He must mean because of Yuuri’s snarky comment. Hahhhhh. That’s the truth, for sure. Shame we can’t tell Yakov that Vitya is involved. It sure would make this a lot simpler._

“NOW QUIT SPACING OUT, AND GO THE HELL WARM UP! YOU’RE LATE!”

“All right, all right…” Vitya said with a chuckle. He turned to Yuuri. “You can sit on the edge of the rink with me and watch when Yura starts skating; that’ll be okay, yes?”

Yuuri nodded with the appropriate, respectfully lowered eyes of an omega addressing an alpha.  “Yes, Victor.”

“Oi, loosen up, kid!” Yakov called over his shoulder as he led his skaters away. “We don’t follow those damn dynamic traditions here. Just act however you want!”

Yuri smiled at he jogged away from the others. As gruff as he came off, Yakov was a good man. The older alpha had been way before his time with his opinions involving dynamics. Yakov had actually stayed with Lilia, an alpha herself, for an exceptionally long period of time. In fact, their divorce had had little to do with their dynamics, and more to do with the lengthy periods of separation they had to endure under their respective athletic careers. They had never bothered to bond, and Yuri wondered if they would still be together if they had. He wasn’t even sure how an Alpha pair bond would work, but he figured the remnants of one would be the same as any other.

It wasn’t exactly as though the bond prevented you from seeing other people. Oh no, it was much more complex than that. More so, you would never forget the feel of your mate’s hands or lips on your skin. The sound of their laughs of delight or moans of pleasure. You could never rid your mind of the sight of their irises changing to silver or gold. And their scent… dear god, their scent would linger just out of reach for the rest of your life. No one would ever turn you on like your bonded mate. No one would ever incite the same level of passion or emotion or need. Such was the curse of the mating bond.

The bonding marks were physical reminders of your mate’s hormones mixing eternally into your blood. An alpha could recognize his Omega from as far away as he could see. An omega would know her Alpha with all of her senses blocked. Even a beta had better intuition regarding his mate’s thoughts if they had laid all three marks, and he tried hard enough (although to a lesser degree than if they were of another dynamic.)

Yuri couldn’t tell what his mates were thinking at the moment, and it was unnerving compared to his previous existence when reading them had been so, so simple. Now, he had to put in far greater effort to pay attention to their body language, their tone, their eyes and expressions… It was so much harder this way, but if he didn’t, then he found himself feeling disconnected. Of course, he could always feel _them._ He could tell essentially where they were even if he wasn’t looking at them, but he could hardly register their scents, and he knew he wasn’t really putting off much of his own.

It was disorienting, and despite his original, exhilaratingly clear-headed thoughts as a beta, he was becoming more and more disillusioned. Perhaps being a beta was fine if you had never experienced life as another dynamic. Perhaps it was just that he missed his mates. Either way, Yuri was right sick of it. Hell, he’d take back all of the disadvantages of being an omega if it would set the bonds back to the way they were previously. Even as a beta, he still felt like he had two Alphas; that hadn’t changed. He didn’t really understand it, but maybe that was something he should impress to Dr. Yang when he saw her next. After completing a lap around the large building and performing his regular stretches, Yuri headed back to the rink to grab his skates and get started.

Along the way back, he spotted Georgi and Mila standing by the restrooms. Yakov was going to get pissed if he saw them off the ice again so soon.  With all the glee of a younger sibling getting his brother and sister in trouble, Yuri imagined the excess of conditioning they were going to get as punishment. As he passed by the drinking fountain, Yuri caught the sound of his rinkmates’ conversation with the heightened hearing courtesy of his current dynamic.

“Milochka, are you all right? You smell different today…”

“It’s nothing,” the red-haired woman replied. “I’m just getting a cold or something.”

She did look like it: her face was turning ruddy, and sweat glistened on her skin. Yuri hoped she didn’t have a fever. He rounded the corner as she excused herself into the bathroom. If she _was_ ill it was best to stay away from her for the moment, but he would let Vitya know, and his coach would take care of it. Mila was the incredibly stubborn, determined kind of woman who would walk around missing an arm and telling everyone it was just a scratch (Yes, _of course_ , she could skate!). Sometimes she couldn’t be trusted to look after her own health, and this wouldn’t be the first time that Yuri had gone behind her back in her best interest. He didn’t want her hurting herself on the ice. Again… His brow furrowed at the memory of her crashing out of a triple lutz and injuring her knee, all because she wouldn’t admit she needed to rest. As much as they teased each other, Yuri was very fond of Mila, but he would stomp on the face of anyone that suggested it

Looking around for his coach, he found Vitya leaning against the side wall of the rink. The alpha wore a pleasant expression as he listened to Yuuri talk animatedly from his perch on a bench. Yuri paused a moment mid-stride to guess on the subject of discussion. He even scented the air for a trace of context. Coming up empty and irritated, he continued his approach and asked.

“Victor asked me to tell him about my childhood while we waited for you,” Yuuri replied with a chuckle, “So I was telling him the story about when my sister, Mari, decided I would go to ballet class with her. She didn’t expect me to get better at it than her, though.”

“She seemed protective of you when we met her, like a good sister.” Vitya commented, coming to Yuri and handing him a pair of black gloves.

“Oh yeah, you did meet her, didn’t you? That completely slipped my mind.”

Yuri nodded, remembering the handsome, brunette woman. He thanked Vitya for remembering his favorite gloves and sat down to pull on a skate and begin lacing up the boot. “Milka looks like she’s getting pretty sick,” he informed his coach.

The alpha frowned. “Is that so? I’ll mention it to Yakov. She should rest for the day if that’s the case. Not only should she specifically not be around you and Georgi with World’s approaching, she could hurt herself skating like that.” He stood up with intent. “Yuuri, just stay here and watch Yura, if you don’t mind. I’ll be right back.” And with that he strode off toward his former coach on the other end of the rink.

“He’s being awfully bossy to you, today…” Yuri mentioned as he finished readying the last knot on his skates. He flipped one leg over to straddle the bench before scooting over to wrap his arms around his mate.

Yuuri leaned in and immediately molded himself against Yuri’s chest, tucking his head beneath the blond’s chin and sighing with relief.  “It’s not his fault; he can’t touch us, and it’s driving him nuts. So he probably wants me to stay in certain places so he can always glance over and see me. It’s the least I can do with him trying so hard.”

Yuri hummed back in agreement. It was still so hard to be apart, especially out of each other’s sights. For a few moments they just held each other, recharging.

Mila made herself known with a loud “Awwww……” as she passed by. She’d changed the colors of her rockers; the skate guards now had a sparkly blue front half to compliment the translucent light green in the back.

“Hey, take it easy today! You look like you might fall over!” Yuri shouted to her, covering Yuuri’s closest ear with a hand to avoid deafening it.

Oddly, the woman blanched and lifted her elbows to press her palms to the sides of her throat.

_What the hell? Is she checking her lymph nodes? She’s so damn weird._

He shook his head. Mila always behaved oddly, so this wasn’t really out of the ordinary. He never really knew what was going through her mind. Now she was giving him a weighty, penetrating look.

“Did you need something else?” Yuuri called out, bristling. Yuri looked down at the top of his head in amusement. It was adorable that he was protective and possessive of Yuri even from his rinkmates, as if they could possibly take him away. Of course, Yuuri didn’t know that Mila was practically his older sister… He made a mental note to explain that later. He wondered how long they would be behaving like this. Weeks after they were fully bonded mates? Months or years? He knew they were ridiculous: growling at people who came too close. But that was the mate bond: it reduced intelligent, rational adults to angry, jealous puppies. No one took it too personally.

“Shhh… Alpha,” Yuri murmured. “She’s nothing to be concerned about.” He rubbed his hands up and down Yuuri’s back soothingly.

Mila was too far away to hear him, but she was smirking now, eyes narrowed. “No thanks! Things to do; places to be; people to see!” With that, she trotted off.

“Sorry, I just don’t like her looking at you for some reason…” Yuuri huffed, tilting his head to look up at his younger mate. “There’s something off about her.”

“Really, what makes you say that? Milka’s an oddball, that’s for sure, but we’ve been close since we were kids. _Don’t_ tell her I said that.”

Yuuri frowned. “Dammit, I just can’t put my finger on it. Her scent is too convoluted. Anyway,” he gave Yuri’s chest a little shove. “You should get on the ice. I want to see how much you’ve improved since Sexy Teenage Goth Kids on Ice.”

* * *

Mila was deep in thought as she hurried back to Yakov for her next assignment. Yurotchka was being weird. Worse than that, he was being perceptive. And his mate clearly noticed something about her, too. That wasn’t good. She sighed, not permitting herself to be surprised. Omegas didn’t frequent Yublieyny unless they came to view a performance or competition, and they never got close to her; she made sure of that.

Her greeting to her coach was stopped abruptly when Yakov put the back of a hand to her forehead. “You’re feverish. Why didn’t you tell me? Fool girl.”

Vitya stood next to him, a look of mild guilt characterizing his supposedly attractive face. Freaking tattle tale.

“I was gonna… I just wanted to run my program a couple more times and…”

“And you knew I wouldn’t let you in your condition. Precisely.” Yakov turned her around by her shoulders and gave her a push. “Get the hell out of here, and go home to rest.”

Sulking, she gathered her things, gave one last glare in Vitya’s direction, and headed in the direction of the Sportivnaya metro.

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**BONUS: As requested by Ignis76, I am including an excerpt from a chapter of the Japanese high school Dynamics class textbook that most teenagers are required to read at age 16-17. Some of this has already been revealed, but there is new information as well. If you'd prefer to learn along with the characters rather than get a chunk of dry classroom Dynamics info, just skip this!**

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**Chapter 6: Bonding marks**

Marks can somewhat bear resemblance to vaccines. Within a person’s blood, there are hormones and other proteins that are unique to that person, although similarities exist among the dynamics.

The original throat mark (placed on either side or both, by preference) can be considered the first vaccine. Its effects will wane if booster “shots” are not given. The throat is visible to everyone, if the mark bearer wills it, and it is generally considered uncouth to court someone prominently displaying a throat mark. The mark is placed meticulously around the carotid artery and care must be taken not to compress both arteries at the same time.

Two booster “shots” are required for the bonds to be completed, and the antigens to stabilize and become permanent in the blood.

The second mark is generally given on the wrist with the lower jaw biting in centrally against the ulna and the upper biting on either side of the radius. One might think of it akin to an engagement ring. You can still back out, but it will likely cause some extreme heartache. Eventually, the effects will fade, but it will take longer and be more emotionally (and possibly physically) painful.

The third mark is placed on the inner thigh, usually midway between the knee and pelvis. The location of the thigh mark is the most subjective of the three marks and is given entirely to the marker’s preference. Marks have been placed from just above the knee all the way up to against the crease of the abdomen. When the third mark is successfully placed, the bond cements itself and becomes unbreakable, sometimes even in the case of one mate’s death for Alpha-Omega bonds.

Quite often a person will request all of their marks on one side of their body and place their mate’s bonds on the opposite side to create a mirror image; although positioning is rarely discussed ahead of time. Mark placement is based on alphan and omegian instinct, and it is not fully understood why the bites are placed in this order on the three most powerful scent glands on the human body. This researcher’s opinion is the following:

The throat mark is placed to be an apparent warning to all other suitors of the essential command and “ownership,” whether temporary or not, that a person places on another.

The wrist mark is less obvious and displayed only at a person’s will, but is another dangerous place to damage, showing intense trust between courting couples.

The thigh mark is very personal, and generally is only seen by the person’s mate except in the instance of swimwear or whatnot. The sensitive flesh of the thigh makes this bite both the most painful and the most pleasurable for the receiver and the most satisfying for the deliverer. The exact location of the placement along the leg is by preference, and likely conveys yet another meaning not yet understood.

After the second mark, mates will hold each other’s scents in their glands. After the third mark is sealed, they will begin producing each other’s scents to a minimal degree, which may or may not be noticeable to others.

As expected, if one person in a relationship is more invested (has more marks) he or she will have more trouble removing themselves from the situation.

**Sealing the marks:**

Sex (albeit not necessarily, but usually, referring to intercourse) is required for sealing marks, and courting couples generally feel a great urge to do so as soon as possible unless urgent matters arise. The mark can feel mildly “unfinished” without it. Sex, and specifically intercourse, releases certain signal molecules that “activate” the externally-produced hormones now present within the blood. This is both highly pleasurable and semi-permanent, acting as an aphrodisiac meant to encourage mating and procreation. While sealing after each mark is not absolutely necessary, (and some cultures do indeed only seal after the last mark) it is considering to be a healthy means of solidifying not only the physical bond, but an emotional and mental one as well. It is commonly believed that mates who seal all three bonds individually tend to have a higher level of understanding for each other, and bonds tend to be more successful, but there is mixed data regarding this from various studies.

There is no immediate external, apparent indication that a mark has been sealed other than a greater degree of relaxation and satisfaction. Unsealed partners tend to be antsy.

However, unless marks are sealed, they will remain raw and easily open again to bleed until they begin to heal without scarring in the absence of an additional mark placement. Sealed marks heal to the appearance of a red scar. Once all three marks heal, the scars will gradually fade to pink and then white, melding into the skin and giving the appearance of a shiny, silver birthmark.

**Alphas, Omegas, and the Bond Marks:**

Alphas, on the whole, tend to initiate marking. The only records of non-consensual bites have been performed by Alphas.

Long, long ago, when Omegas were sold to Alphas, the three marks were routinely placed one right after the other. All three first on the Omega, and then on the Alpha if the bonding was to be completed. This supposedly sent the omega instantaneously into heat, and the alpha into a rut, making procreation highly likely.

This is no longer performed and courting couples usually exchange one bond at a time to avoid that exact situation. Additionally, placing multiple bite on one partner can result in psychological complexes that are still being studied. The healthiest means of bonding is to exchange the marks equally, one bond at a time, with no less than 24 hours between the first two marks and no less than 1 week between the second and third mark.

Longer periods of “courting” and “engagement” are recommended. “Mated” is the term used for the period after all three marks are exchanged and sealed, but if an agreement is made to eventually perform all the marks, partners often choose to start referring to their mates as such at that point. For a higher level of specificity, the terms “once-bonded” is equivalent to “courting,” “twice-bonded” is equivalent to “engaged,” and “bonded mate” is equivalent to “mated,” and are used respectively according to a couple’s choice.

Both Alphas and Omegas have instinctive abilities to know where and how to bite to place successful bond marks, but personal study is needed to make them the most pleasurable and pristine marks. Courses are often available in this vain. Sweetworkers and spiceworkers are known for their trained brilliance and perfect placement of throat marks on their patrons. The small, neat marks laced with potent pheromones are extremely pleasurable for Alphas and Omegas, respectively, to receive, and they heal relatively quickly without a scar. The instructions for such marks are secretive and highly guarded by sugarhouses.

Marks tend to fade completely in relatively predictable time periods, the only outliers tend to be expertly delivered marks, for example from sweetworker’s aptly named “sweet bites.”

 **Throat mark:** 1 week-2 weeks; S: 1-2d  
**Wrist mark:** 4-6 months; S: Unknown  
**Thigh mark:** 5-10 years if opposite mark is not placed on partner. S: Unknown

Marks that have faded no longer have effects on their bearer. They can be reactivated during an unknown and individually differing period of time by the placement of the next mark. The invisible mark during that period of time is referred to as “under woven.” Otherwise, it will have to be replaced before another mark can be placed.

**Betas and the Bond Marks:**

Betas do not feel urgency to mark, bond, or mate, other than a natural human instinct of a want for children. Some Betas do not want children at all. They experience sexual interest, arousal, and pleasure similar to the other dynamics but not the procreational urge.

Likely for this reason, bonding for Beta-Beta pairs was frowned upon as unnecessary for many years. The bond is generally very weak compared to an Α-Ω bond or even a Β-Ω or an Α-Β bond.

Betas do not release the pleasurable hormones that Alphas and Omegas do upon receiving a bite, and thus it is very painful for them. They do not have the instincts of how or where to place the mark, so most study for weeks to months (classes exist and are common methods of obtaining this information) before attempting the bond with their partner. Such topics are beyond the scope of this text and can be found within “A Beta’s Guide to Presentation and Mating,” by Beta Dynamics Specialist Armin Alert, Ph.D.

Betas also do not feel an enjoyment from the spilling of blood, while Alphas and Omegas do, because they instinctively understand that seeing the substance means the mark was deep enough to allow their hormones to penetrate their partner’s blood. They also have a tendency to find their opposing dynamic’s skin and blood to smell and taste delicious. While there is no urge to drink blood, the urge to lap at newly placed marks is strong. It is not known if it is actually necessary, but sources dictate that nearly all Alpha-Omega mates lave the marks in saliva after they are placed. Enzymes in saliva likely encourage healing and speed the recovery process.

One major difference that may or may not be related to the marks has to do with the somewhat telepathic connection mates gain. Betas do not have the ability to read their mates emotions through the bonds. According to Dynamics Geneticist and Specialist Isabella Yang, M.D., Ph.D, this may have to do with the reduced levels of gene expression resulting in reduced hormone levels. It is conjectured that a mate’s individual proteins in his or her blood allow a greater degree of “awareness about one’s mate,” which may lead to the appearance of emotional understanding or “mind-reading.” Betas cannot engage in this, and are reduced to the original human connection to their mate of reading body language, vocal patterns, and tones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Info via wiki: Yubileyny Sports Club (AKA Sdushor St. Petersburg) is a famous ice skating training center in St. Petersburg. Examples of skaters who trained there include: Alexei Urmanov, Evgeni Plushenko, Maria Stavitskaia, and Alexander Petrov. I felt it a likely place that our boys would be skating.
> 
> Next time: Mila's story... and Yuuri may finally get his skates back on.
> 
> As per usual, please feel free to tell me what you'd like to see, because it just might make it in to the story!


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mila's Backstory.  
> Interactions with Yakov.  
> Yuuri gets back on the ice!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I missed an update last week! Hopefully this once makes up for it.
> 
> You might find I have difficulty updating at the ends of month as my rotations finish up. I have to move south a few hours for a month come this weekend for the next one.
> 
> My life has been a little jumbled lately. Unfortunately, my grandmother is currently passing away, so I'll drive ten hours to see her tomorrow. I wanted to get this up before I got all wrapped up in life again.
> 
> Please enjoy!

Victor watched Mila walk away with a frown on his face. “She really doesn’t look well.”

Yakov harrumphed. “Girl better not be starting a rut. It’s too damn close to World’s.”

Victor nodded slowly, the mention of the woman’s ruts bringing a question to his mind. “Yakov… where did Mila go for that month after her presentation?”

“None of your business,” the older coach replied gruffly.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mila go into a rut before, but that’s not what it looks like when I do.” Victor brought his knuckles to his chin as he worked to remember. “Is that something to do with alphan women? Is that the kind of rut that Lilia had?”

Yakov turned to face his ex-skater fully. “Vitya, I am never, and let me make this utterly clear, NEVER going to talk about my ex-wife’s ruts with you. Go pick up a damn book if you can’t remember what Alpha femmes’ ruts are like.”

Victor chuckled. “Speaking of, I’ve recently learned that my education in dynamics was an utter failure. I actually would be interested in getting one of those books. Do you have any suggestions?”

The older coach fingered at his wool hat. “What the hell are you even doing over here, Vitya? Go coach Yura. It’s your _job_ now, remember?” Yakov scoffed, giving a little push at Victor’s chest.

Victor glanced over Yakov’s shoulder at his two mates, snuggled together on a bench by the rink. He was infinitely envious that he couldn’t be wrapped up around them. A sigh escaped from his mouth. It was going to be ridiculously difficult to pull this off. Every fiber of his being just wanted to go over and kiss them both. Well, frankly, he wanted to rip their clothes off, but that definitely wouldn’t be considered kosher. Hell, neither would touching them for more than a brief second unless there was a clear purpose. It had never been so clear to the alpha that he needed help, and there was always one person who was safe to go in just such situations. A man who always accepted him no matter what ridiculous circumstances he managed to get himself into and no matter how many times it happened. Shifting from foot to foot, he weighed his options, hoping this time would go as smoothly, or at least as successfully, as with most times in the past.

Victor made a split second decision. His eyes cleared and he asked: “Will you come with me for a moment?”

“What _now,_ Vitya? Can’t it wait?” Yakov’s mouth twisted in confusion.

“No.” The younger alpha replied, reaching out to grasp Yakov’s arm briefly. “No, I definitely can’t.”

He released Yakov and strode off with determination toward the coaches’’ office. No one was inside, thankfully. Victor heard Yakov holler to his skaters that he would be right back, and that they better not start slacking just because he wasn’t watching. Then the older man stomped through the door.

“All right. What.” Irritation laid a heavy mask on Yakov’s words, but Victor really hoped that it was concern he could hear edged beneath it. _Deep_ beneath it.

He hesitated, still considering if this was a wise idea, as he walked to the other side of the desk before turning to face Yakov.

“ _What, Vitya?”_

Victor fingered at the scarf around his neck, and the he sighed and unwound it with downcast eyes.

There was silence for a few moments, and then Yakov crowed with delight and slammed his palms down on the desk.

“What the hell? You finally found a mate? And two marks? Another wild one! That’s wonderful Vitya, congratulations!”

“No… I…” Victor spluttered, turned on his head by the other man’s response. Okay, so he probably should have started with the explaining. Looking back, this wasn’t a very clear way to express his situation. Well, damn.

“We’ll have to celebrate both you and Yura finding a mate in the same weekend! What a riot! Why are you hiding this; the others will be even more stupidly happy than usual!”

“Yakov, wait, listen to me!”

“All the omegas will be depressed, but I can finally stop worrying about how you’re going to take care of yourself,” Yakov railed on. Victor had never heard him sound less grumpy. “Especially since Yura won’t be with you all the time anymore since he has an omega now.”

“Actually, he…”

Yakov turned back to open the door “Where is this mate of yours? They can’t be far from you.  Bring them out, and let’s go tell the others—“

Victor reached over the desk, grabbing the man’s shoulder and pulling him back around to hiss in his face. “YURA _IS_ MY MATE, YAKOV!”

Yakov’s eyes bugged out. “What the hell are you going on about?”

Victor fell down into the wooden chair with a thump, his elbows braced on his knees and head in his hands. “We don’t know what happened. It’s some sort of three-way bond between Yuuri, Yura, and me. It’s why we all have two marks for each bond.” He pulled off his gloves and showed Yakov his wrists.

“And we’re in way too deep.”

“Holy shit, Vitya…” Yakov’s eyes were narrowed. Victor looked away before he could see the distaste flow up into his ex-coach’s expression. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea, after all.

He felt despair well inside him. It had been a huge risk telling Yakov the truth, and he hadn’t even mentioned Yura’s magical, changing dynamic. This man was essentially his father. Yakov had trained him since he had starting skating at 7, and when Victor’s parents had died at 13, he’d taken the boy into his home. He was unflappable and demanding, and Victor had hated living under his stringent rules… But he loved Yakov. If the man disowned him because of this, Victor would have a gaping wound to heal.

“You lucky son of a bitch.”

Victor’s face snapped up and he stared at his surrogate father. “What?!”

“You’re telling me that you not only have two mates by some crazy freak circumstances, but they happen to be Yura AND that gorgeous, snarky little omega? How did you even DO that?”

“Oh my god, Yakov, please don’t call my mate gorgeous… Even if he is. But yeah, he’s rather confident.”

The older coach barked a laugh.

 “Yakov…” Victor’s mouth was dry. He had hoped that Yakov would come around be he certainly hadn’t figured that he would be so receptive. Never. He never would have expected the man to react this way. But maybe he should have… Yakov was incredibly open-minded, surprisingly, and he was exceedingly loyal to and protective over his skaters. “You can’t tell anyone else… There’s more going on here that I don’t have the right to tell you yet.”

The older man reached out and ruffled Victor’s hair in a rare show of affection. “I demand to hear the whole story about this later, but for now we both have skaters to coach. I suggest you teach your omega how to skate or something so you can get your hands on him for a little while, or the others will notice that it’s getting to you. I’ll see the area clear for a bit.”

 “Thank you…” Victor’s voice was a murmur of relief. “I didn’t know if you would…accept this. It means a lot to me.”

Yakov huffed. “Why would I be bothered by you bonding an alpha and an omega? I don’t understand how everything out there works…” He adjusted his scarf, loosening and retying the knot in the blue wool. “Anything else you want to tell me?”

“Yuuri wants a job…” Victor mentioned. He honestly didn’t know if Yakov could help with that little dilemma, but it couldn’t hurt to try. “He says he’s not comfortable living entirely off money from Yura and me since he can’t do sweetwork anymore.”

Yakov nodded and turned away toward the door, apparently on his way out. “That’s Yuuri Katsuki, right? Japanese skater from about a decade ago?”

Victor blanched. “How could you possibly know---”

Yakov made an annoyed tsking sound. “He had promise; of course, I made note of all the decent skaters in competition with you and the others. And as for work, I have something for him. Doesn’t even matter that he’s Omega. He’ll love it.” His hand grasped the door knob, and he turned back with parting words.

“Vitya, yours aren’t the only secrets I keep, so if I don’t answer about the others, than you can be sure I won’t answer about you and yours...” Yakov adjusted his hat and added, seemingly as an afterthought: “Don’t forget to wind you scarf up and get your gloves back on. It’s cold out there.” With that, he strode out. Victor watched him go with a sense of confused wonder.

* * *

Mila staggered into her apartment door and tried to fit the key into the lock despite her shaking hands. She had to get in. She couldn’t be out here. Finally, the key slid home, and she heard to bolt click open. Incredible relief flooded through her as the door swung wide, and she stumbled in, shoving it closed and locking the three locks that she always used when she was home.

She scrambled into her bedroom, dragging the drawer to the nightstand open and pulling out a bottle of aspirin. Popping off the lid, she spilled it out onto the bed, grabbed two pills, and dry swallowed them. Then she opened a box of Nanoplast forte pain relief patches and plastered two to the scent glands on her throat before falling onto the bed, her hands over her face and tears escaping between her fingers, her body surrounded  by pills.

Mila had a secret. Two, in fact. First, neither the pills nor the patches were actually pain killers. And second, she _hated_ herself. She hated her scent. It disgusted her with its sweet undertones of mango and mint. It made her want to gag. The emotions and sensations that welled up in her when she smelled certain pheromones made her feel useless and sick. She was an alpha. _An alpha, dammit!_ Only, God hadn’t seen fit to place her in the body of an alpha, and it hurt every day. So much… So, so much. Mila pushed the dosage limits regularly on heat suppressants, because she wasn’t supposed to have heats. She was supposed to have ruts. She was supposed to be able to attract Omegas, but her body didn’t agree, and the dysphoria she felt was punishing.

Mila opened her eyes and glanced at her balcony. She was on the 12th floor… Was that high enough?

It wasn’t the first time that she thought about killing herself to escape her living hell. Mila knew what she was… had read about people managing it for their primary gender… But Mila wasn’t transgender. She was transdynamic. Every fiber of her being felt like an alpha, needed to be Alpha… _was_ Alpha. And yet it wasn’t. Due to some great cosmic mistake, she was born with the wrong fucking genetic code. It didn’t have anything to do with the difficulties of being an omega in society, and it didn’t have anything to do with the fact that she shouldn’t be permitted to continue skating as an omega. It was because she was an alpha, and that was all there was to it.

She had an arsenal of methods to make her body cooperate. She used the highest dosage of prescription scent blockers and heat suppressants. She couldn’t go to a doctor for them; someone could see her, and that was too dangerous, so she ordered them online to a PO Box. They were stronger than you could legally get in Russia anyway. She also used alphan hormones and pheromones. Those helped the most. She injected the hormones once every two weeks, and they convinced her body to look and smell more like an alpha. They had a good effect. They had made her taller and stronger: made her look more like the alpha she felt like. They changed her scent to a more dominant aroma. She also applied a topical pheromone to all of her scent glands after her scent blockers had dried. Those were to even out the levels of alphan hormones in her blood, and they helped with the unfortunate trough of low concentration near the approach of her next injection dose. She had patches of hormones for that, too, but she only used those in emergencies. Like today. Or when she really needed to feel like herself.

Alphas may have been better at separating scents, but dynamics could recognize each other the most easily. Hence why Mila kept clear of Omegas. Such a situation had occurred horrible several times before. An omega would be happily chatting with her, seeming to accept the scents she plastered on and under her skin, seeming interested in her… and then it hit them like a freight train. Their eyes sparked, and they frowned and “Why do you smell like another omega? Why do you smell like mango? Why do you smell like mint?” Then she had to make something up about already having an omega and oh, sorry, yeah, didn’t mean to lead you, and get the hell out of dodge.  And Yura’s mate had given her that same sharp look of understanding. It brought back the terror. It brought back the reminder of her incredible solitude.

_Well, shit. Of course, Yura would bond someone clever and observant…_

The loneliness that blossomed inside of Mila was uncontrollable. There was no one who understood. Even Mila’s parents didn’t know she was transdynamic, because she had been out of the house by nineteen, traveling for skating long before her presentation. The only person who knew was Yakov, and supportive as he was, had no idea what it was like to be transdynamic. The man was Alpha through and through. And Mila was _so jealous_ of him. And Georgi. And Victor. And…well perhaps not Yura. He didn’t feel like an alpha, which was concerning but simultaneously exciting for Mila. The possibility that he might be like her and that she would have someone to talk to made her feel obtusely hopeful… But Yuri had only been gone a day. When Mila left for her presentation, she hadn’t returned for a month.

Yakov had taken her to a sugarhouse in Japan after she told him she was sure she would present Alpha. But when he picked her up the next day, it had been in the spicehouse on the other side. And she had been utterly devastated. Destroyed. Inconsolable. The house mistress said she’d seen it before. People so very sure of their dynamic and presenting as a different one; not afraid of societal restrictions, but simply desperate to be whom they were. She recommended Mila take a trip to South Korea under an alpha’s protection to find certain supplies that omegas used there. They were highly illegal and could only be found on the black market, but Seoul was the best place to find them due to the incredible restrictions on Omegas.

Yakov had made to resist, but one look at Mila’s tear-stained face had ceased his grumbling. He had promised her, _promised her_ that he would make it all work out. He’d been so confused, but when she said she was Alpha despite the sweetness of her scent, the alluring pheromones flowing from her skin, his response had been unforgettable.

“Well, Mila, if you say you’re Alpha then you’re Alpha. No damn reason to cry about it. You just need a little help convincing your body to get in line.”

They’d gone to Korea like that house mistress suggested, and when Yakov returned to Russia to coach Yura and the others, Mila had stayed there and learned alphan mimicry. In the four years since, every day had been a struggle to convince her body and the people around her who she really was. Every day she avoided omegas that would be able to smell the omega beneath her induced alphan scents. Every day she strived to ignore the dysphoria that tormented her.

And today, her heat had broken through all her guards and yes, here it was again. The pills weren’t working fast enough. She hated the sensation of need and want and lust. Her skin was hot and clammy, and it wanted Alpha hands on her and that was _disgusting_.

Mila considered taking more of the pills that were strewn around her, but she knew it didn’t work that way. If the amount she had taken didn’t suppress her heat, then there was nothing she could do about it. More meds would just lead her to an overdose, and although death still seemed like a conceivable release, she firmed herself to hold strong. She could call Yakov. He would find a way to help her. She hoped.

* * *

Yuuri sat alone on the bench watching his younger mate warm-up and run through his program. It was truly beautiful. Yurio’s embodiment of agape was clean and pure. It was pristine in a way that Yuuri could hardly remember being. He wondered what the blonde was thinking about out there on the ice. What did Yurio love unconditionally? Was Yuuri even allowed to ask such a personal question?

He dropped his eyes to watch the patterns tracing onto the ice. Perfect circles from spins and smooth curves and little divots from jumps. They mesmerized him, as they always had. Skaters didn’t just skate… They painted. They etched beautiful figures across a sheet of translucent glass. They evoked emotion from the very ice itself.

Watching the lithe, blond faerie create his art, Yuuri fell into a state of meditation. Worry fell from his mind. Concern dropped away into an abyss of nothingness. Anxiety was gone as though it were never there.

_Everything he does on ice is full of love…_

A hand came down on his shoulder, and Yuuri jumped, pulled suddenly from his pensive state. He edged away and turned to look at the newcomer.

Only it was Victor who stood behind him, hands raised in surrender, a bright heart-shaped grin on his mouth.

Warmth swelled up in Yuuri’s chest. Just the nearness of his Alpha was enough to spark a glow of pleasure inside him. His lips quirked up in a return smile. “You certainly seem happy about something…”

“Let’s go to the proshop and get you some skates, yes?” The silver-haired man suggested with excitement.

“Yes! Thank you, Alph—Victor!” He cut himself off, gritting his teeth. He hopped to his feet, hoping no one was close enough to hear his near-slip.

Yuuri followed Victor away from the rink, glancing back once and meeting eyes with Yurio. The blonde smiled and waved him off, turning to restart his program again. That kid was something, all right…

Yuuri edged past a few stray orange cones and set himself to walk along at Victor’s side as the silver-haired man smiled down at him blissfully.

* * *

 

Yuuri stepped slowly and carefully away from the proshop, holding a pair of black ice skates nestled in his arms with all the care with which one would support a newborn baby. Victor had pranced ahead of him, excited to put Yuuri back in skates and on ice. Perhaps even more excited than Yuuri himself was…

Unease was starting to reach up from inside of him; disquiet spiraled up from the pit of his stomach and shadowed his peripheral vision. Hinting flickers of familiar scents brushed at the edges of his memory. The crisp, cool scent of the ice and the musk of effort and sweat swirled around the omega, and he tried to remember the good related to them and forget all of the bad at the same time. It wasn’t an easy feat, Yuuri knew, because he tried time and time again to uproot the scents from the despair that clung to them.

The skates wrapped tightly in his arms were beautiful, expensive things. Victor had insisted, saying that he wouldn’t have Yuuri going underbooted and hurting his ankles. Yuuri had reminded him that he probably wouldn’t be doing any triple axels anytime soon… if ever. He tried to press that he just needed recreational skates: enough to glide around on and feel the slice of frozen water beneath his blades. Enough for school figures and the occasional easy-going spin.

Victor shook his head and patted Yuuri’s shoulder gently, lingering a touch too long when the shopkeep wasn’t paying attention. “I know these aren’t going to be too stiff for you. You’re not going to feel over-booted. I paid attention to the skates you were wearing in those videos we watched. Those were custom Kosugi boots mounted with John Wilson Gold Seal blades weren’t they? I prefer Pattern 99, myself.”

Yuuri colored lightly, undeniably pleased that Victor had noticed such small details. “Kosugi doesn’t usually make anything above an intermediate level… but they were so pleased that I was going to the Junior Grand Prix that they made those boots up on the fly. I really liked them.”

“Perhaps we can ask them to make you a new pair, then, later. For now, hopefully these will do.”

Yuuri lightly stroked the black leather of the boot’s tongue, fingered the cut-outs of the beautiful piano shape. He glossed his fingers against the danger of the freshly sharpened blades and exalted in the nearness to pain. The glory of a perfect edge. The plushness of the padded interior. The shininess of the black boot and silver blade.

They were overkill; he knew it. Yes, he’d kept his ankles and legs strong at Yutopia, but it’s not like he was going to be up in the air. Victor seemed to have hopes a little too high for Yuuri to reach even if he were to jump, and these boots were going to take forever to wear in.

It was at this point that Yuuri realized that he’d already decided to keep them. Victor seemed to notice too, and easy pleasure leaked out onto his face. “Eventually, we can get you new custom boots, but I wanted something for you to wear today, at least.”

Victor had bought these as a _place-holder_ , as if Yuuri could possibly have a need for even better skates. The idea was absurd.

Taking hold of Yuuri’s shoulder, Victor settled him onto the bench by the rink and knelt in front of him, looking up through fine silver hair.

Yuuri swallowed around a throat he had just realized was tight. Victor took one the freshly fitted skates out of Yuuri’s arms and unlaced it with efficiency before settling it around Yuuri’s foot and beginning to draw up the laces with practiced ease.

“Too tight, too loose, just right, or let you do it?” Victor asked in a single breath. Yuuri chuckled. “Too loose,” he replied candidly. It wouldn’t do to hurt himself his first time back on skates just to save a bit of Victor’s ego. The alpha didn’t seem to be the least bit concerned, undoing the top of the laces and pulled firmly, putting in square knots with every hook and eye, and settling the final knot and bow closer to the tongue of the boot. It felt perfect. The heat molding had fitted the boot miraculously to Yuuri’s feet with only the smallest discomfort in his little toe. He ignored it, shrugging it off as a leftover quirk of the boot. It would work itself out.

Victor settled the second skate onto his other foot with the same expert ease and efficiency, and then he situated himself down on the bench next to Yuuri to lace up his own skates.

“Hey, can I do yours up?” Yuuri asked impulsively.

Victor paused in his lacing and glanced around. Yuuri saw the thought cross his mind: there were still a few people here. Right. It was realistic for most people to see Victor lacing up the skates of an omega who didn’t know how to do it. The other way around didn’t make any sense.

“Forget I just asked that,” he interjected just as Victor opened his mouth to reply. “That was stupid, I just wanted to return the favor.”

“There are plenty of ways you can pay me back later, Yuuri…” Victor purred, voice coming from low in his chest.

A screech of shaved ice bloomed in the air shortly before Yurio gently collided with the side wall in front of them, clearly too excited for come to a complete stop beforehand.

“You got new knife shoes! Edea, huh? Not bad.” He leaned over to get a better look. “Wanna try ‘em out?”

Yuuri looked up at his younger mate with a wavering smile. He felt anxious. There was no reason to feel that way, and yet, here he was, concerned what Victor and Yurio were going to think when he stepped onto the ice and fell flat on his face. It was going to happen; he was sure of it.

Victor grasped his elbow and gave a little tug accompanied by an encouraging smile. “The ice and arena is clear except for us right now.” He waved an arm around in a broad motion, showing the last of the other patrons filtering out through the door. “It’s a perfect opportunity.”

Yuuri nodded and took a deep breathe in through his nose before pushing it slowly out of his lungs through his mouth as he stood up. The sensation of balancing on blades was familiar, and a strong rush of nostalgia flowed through him. _Damn, it’s been a long time._

He took a step toward the barricade and paused as he felt Victor’s grip slide off of his arm. “You’ll… you’re coming with me, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” Victor replied with a sly grin. “I have to teach you how to skate after all. Which means I simply _must_ be holding on to you.” He winked.

“Vitya, he knows how to skate…”

Yuuri could hear the exasperation in Yurio’s voice, who had missed the wink, and for some reason a giggle bubbled up inside him. Victor Nikiforov was going to teach him to skate. If only his twelve year-old self could see him now. That kid would be so damn jealous.

“And you’re going to help, Yura,” Victor finished. He stood smoothly and plodded over to the rink’s entrance, extending a hand out to Yuuri from there. “That would make you happy, wouldn’t it, Yuuri?”

“I still think you’re being condescending…” Yurio scoffed, but nonetheless he came to Victor’s side to wait for their raven-haired mate. The lines of his body were beautiful, and for a moment Yuuri just looked at the two of them standing on the ice. Then he dropped his chin to set his gaze on the gorgeous skates gracing his feet. He was back. Thanks to them. Thanks to crazy random happenstance. Thanks to fate. Thanks to God. Thanks to Buddha or Shiva or Amaterasu or whoever had blessed him. Whoever was rewarding him for surviving his trials and hardships and hell on earth. Whatever they were called; he thanked them as he took the few steps forward to take Victor’s hand and step onto the ice for the first time in over 8 years.

They were smiling at him, and Yuuri wondered at his mates’ abilities to take pleasure in his own happiness. What was that called? Compersion? Mudita?

Yurio took his other hand and together the three of them glided slowly out onto the ice.

“Victor,” Yurio broached. “Aren’t you concerned with anyone seeing you touching Yuuri?”

“I may have to informed Yakov about the Yuuri situation.”

“YOU WHAT? DID YOU TELL HIM ABOUT ME, TOO?! WHERE WAS OUR WARNING THAT YOU WERE GOING TO DO THAT? YOU’RE SO FUCKING IMPULSIVE; I CAN’T EVEN---”

Victor interrupted Yurio’s rant of steadily rising volume. “Yura, shush, he was fine with it. In fact, the reason the ice is clear, and no one is around is that he’s giving us this time to ourselves. Seemed right proud of me, actually.”

“He was fine with it.” Yurio repeated back, deadpan, calming at the words. “He was actually okay with it? That man never ceases to amaze me. He’s seriously the alpha all alphas should aim to be like.”

“He’s the man all people should strive to be like,” Victor corrected.

Yuuri tuned out their conversation, just reveling in the cool air on his cheeks; the ice beneath his blades; the warmth of the hands clutched in his own.

He couldn’t believe he was here right now. In the middle of this beautiful rink. It was a magnificent moment, and he knew it, so when he felt the tinge of fluid cooling on his face, embarrassment rushed in with it. He could taste the salt from the steady, silent stream of tears. He skated along, listening to his mates’ voices without actually comprehending anything there were saying. And they didn't know. Neither of them knew that this was the most crippling moment of his life since his presentation, and he just wanted to sink down to the ice, double over and try to find something to hold on to. To escape from the welling pressure in his chest.

It was too much and not enough and if only he hadn’t presented Omega he could have been doing this the _whole fucking time_. Instead of learning to be seductive and coy and sexual and sweet, he could have been a real person who interacted with the world on his own terms. He could have still been skating. He could be competing against Yurio at World’s this year. But no. Okay, yes, he thanked the deities for bringing him his mates, but it hadn’t been worth it. He took it back. He would have preferred his life.

And as that thought flowed through him, heavy guilt followed it. Who was he to be so selfish? So unappreciative? Look at all he had compared to others.

His time on the streets and in the sugarhouse had been an unforgettable lesson burned into his skin. It was an egg that had incubated in his chest for so long and then hatched, finally making itself known. And it not a little, yellow duckling that escaped from that shell, but a thriving serpent, black scales glinting green by the soft red light of a lamp covered in a scarf. Muscles undulated powerfully as the creature wormed its way through Yuuri’s body, sewing doubt and hate and darkness as it wrapped tightly around his chest, pressed against his diaphragm, caused the creaking of his ribs. It tangled amongst his intestines, sprouting vine-like tendrils to catch hold on the sides of his abdominal cavity, to fill him so completely that he didn’t realize the intense emptiness of his life.

How long had it been there? This monster of hate and rage and terror and forced obeisance that had grated on his every nerve with each moment he spent on his knees.  When had it begun to tell him he was better than the others kneeling beside him? When had it hissed how he wasn’t supposed to be there? Whispered in his ear that he should rise up and take his rightful place above them?

But with time it grew quiet, just growing, just existing on his internal torment, and Yuuri found that he was glad it was there. It had subsisted on the pain and tears brought about by the coarse hands and hot breath and sharp teeth of alphas on the street and patrons alike.

He had lived in the shadow so long that it had made him realize to the depths of his soul that he was just a spare player in the great game of life. No, he wasn’t even a player; he was the freaking thimble in monopoly. He wasn’t needed. He wasn’t important. How could these men possibly care for him? Want to lay their marks on his tainted, dirty skin and keep them there for eternity. It was too good to be true. It was unrealistic.

It was that sudden cognizance that broke the dam, but it wasn’t a torrent of water the flooded out but more of the vine-like snakes, contorting around his heart and tightening with every heavy, desperate beat. Yuuri tried, he tried so hard.

But he couldn’t manage to get hold of himself. Couldn’t remember why he was so happy a few moments ago. He couldn’t even remember what it was like to feel happy.

Yuuri’s knees buckled, and he collapsed onto his hip, legs tucked beneath him, because in the end, he still remembered how to fall.

They were beside him in an instant: Victor crouched down, and Yurio having simply thrown himself onto the ice to reach Yuuri’s level.

“Yuuri…” the youth breathed out. “Yuuri, no… No, what’s wrong?” He moved from his splayed out position to kneel in front of Yuuri and placed a hand gently on the omega’s cheek.

But Yuuri couldn’t tell them. He didn’t have an inkling of a clue as to how to express the emotions running rampant within himself. He was egotistical and greedy; he should be thankful for where he was today, not thinking about where he could have been. He wanted these men to love him completely, even though he would have given them up if it meant he didn’t have to go through the last 8 years of misery. He should have been grateful for Yuko and her care and concern. He had been in a wonderful sugarhouse… if one could call any sugarhouse wonderful. He was so thankless. So weak-willed. So pathetic.

And so he just shook his head, squeezing his eyes against Yurio’s concerned expression.

 Yuuri felt Victor slide an arm around his waist and settled his head on one of his quaking shoulders. He must have sat down on the ice, uncaring about his clothes. The alpha didn’t say anything. He just squeezed tight and waited.

Yurio somehow scooted up even closer. He pushed Yuuri’s legs apart into a wide straddle and climbed between them, gripping one hip and wrapping an arm around Yuuri’s shoulder and neck to pull him into a hug. He tangled his fingers in the dark hair and pressed his forehead against the other man’s.

Silence reigned for a moment, and then Yurio murmured something soft to Victor in Russian. The alpha raised his head from Yuuri’s shoulder and retreated for a moment. When the arm left his waist, Yuuri felt cold rush there as if all of his clothing had been peeled off, exposing him to the air. But then the heat came back, stronger, closer, as Victor splayed his legs out like Yuuri’s and pressed his chest to his mate’s back, wrapped his arms tight around his waist, and settled his chin back to its position on Yuuri’s shoulder.

Yurio turned around and slid down, settling himself between Yuuri’s legs and wrapping the omega around himself, tipping his back onto Yuuri’s other shoulder and turning his face to nuzzle into the raven’s scent gland. He reached behind him to adjust Victor’s hands to rest on his own ribs, pulling the three of them flush together.

The flow of warmth began seeping back into Yuuri’s bones, and it was only at this point that he realized how cold he had felt. The serpent squirmed within him, uncomfortable from the pressure of his mates’ arms, but happy in the heat. It was confused. Yuuri’s long-time companion relaxed its hold on him, settling lazily into easy coils of muscle and scales. It detached its tendrils, lulled by the warmth against Yuuri’s chest and back and throat. Now, it was quieted by the proof that Yuuri had someone holding on to him, and he had someone to hold on to. The snake unwound from his vocal cords, and finally he felt he could speak.

Yuuri tightened his arms around his younger mate’s shoulders and opened his eyes before beginning to voice his thoughts.  

“God, I wish I hadn’t presented omega… I wish I could have just wanted it badly enough for my body and blood to change, so I didn’t have to live through… all that...”

“Like mine did...” Yurio replied slowly from Yuuri’s right shoulder. .

Yuuri frowned. Sure, he was envious of the dynamic-hopper, but Yurio certainly didn’t have it easy, being the potential lab rat or guinea pig that he was.

He tried to correct Yurio as best he could. “No, I just… this should be enough for me. _You two_ should be enough for me. And yet here I am still wishing for something that would have prevented our bonding from ever happening.”

“Yuuri, listen to me for a minute,” Victor’s voice purred into his ear. He turned to press his lips softly to Yuuri’s scent gland, sending an involuntary shudder through the omega. “This is where we marked you, yes?”

Yurio was still nosing at the left side of his throat, and Yuuri realized that his Alpha was right. They were each on their respective sides attending to the marks they had placed on him.

“You let us place these. You wanted them. You agreed to them. You agreed to us.” He paused, considering his words. “What you didn’t agree to was letting us wipe away your past, your ambition, your heart, or your emotions.”

Yuuri pondered the words, finding them mildly convoluted, and finally asked for clarification. “What do you mean?”

A response came from Yurio, who finally lifted his face from the crook of Yuuri’s neck to reply: “He’s saying that you can be with us and still regret the loss you experienced. Being Omega took your future away. Just because you have a new one with us that is good and everything doesn’t mean that you have to immediately let go of the grief within you from being deprived your rightful path.”

Yuuri’s snake tipped its head up, pleased to have its presence recognized as legitimate. It then eased itself back down, falling into a pleasant slumber.

“You will have a happy life with us, Yuuri," Victor added. He kissed the bond mark on Yuuri’s throat again. “We will all see to that together, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t deserve the life that was stolen from you. The one you worked so hard to achieve. And for that… For that, I am truly sorry.”

Yuuri’s chest tightened again, but it was different this time. It was almost _good_ this time. He felt enveloped and overwhelmed. He tried not to sniffle as again the annoying tears escaped from him. Despite all their words, he was still disappointed with himself and his feelings. “I’m so lucky to have you… I should just be satisfied with that. Anyone would be satisfied with that!”

Yurio pulled away from him a bit, twisting around to kiss at the evidence of emotion dribbling down Yuuri’s cheeks. “You’re not just anyone. You’re our mate. You’re our Yuuri. You should have had everything, and you had to settle, and that’s not fair.”

“We cannot give you back your lost time, my darling mate,” Victor murmured, “but perhaps we can be of some use speeding the path to a direction you want to go.” He rubbed his thumbs against Yuuri’s lower ribs. The wide, broad hands slid fingers along the crevices, calming the tension there.

“You’ll let us try to help, won’t you, Alpha?” Yurio asked, relaxing back into Yuuri’s tight grasp.

Yuuri buried his face in the youth’s blond hair, sucking in air to tight lungs. And he nodded. These were his mates. _His_ mates. They understood. They didn’t begrudge him his selfishness or brokenness or grief. He still didn’t understand why they would want to touch and mark someone so soiled, but that was a conversation for a different day.

Now, here, with his mind at ease and his body wrapped up tightly in love and understanding, Yuuri felt okay again. He nodded. Yes. Yes, he would accept help. It would be a slow journey, but he could learn. He would learn. It would all be okay. As if sensing the change in him. Victor slid back and shifted to standing. Yuuri raised his head to see the silver-haired man help Yurio up. And then they both reached out for Yuuri.

He took both of their hands, and they pulled him to his feet and let him steady for a moment, getting his bearings back.

“What would you like to do now?” Victor asked.

Yuuri considered. “Figures…just school figures. I always did them to relax myself.”

Yurio snickered. “You would. No wonder you were so elegant on the ice.”

He eased into a figure eight pattern, tugging Yuuri and then Victor along with him. And they skated through the sets of figures, once, twice, three times, until Yurio’s stomach began to rumble in complaint, and Yuuri’s mind had emptied of harried thoughts.

“Time for dinner?” Victor suggested. “The evening classes will be starting soon anyway."

“Yes, let’s go,” Yuuri agreed, releasing his mates’ hands. They skated toward the exit, but at the last moment Yuuri stopped, letting his feet come to a T to pause his forward trajectory.

“Yuuri?” Victor stood at the gate in the sidewall. The pair were looking back at Yuuri, clearly wondering what had drawn his attention.

Yuuri paused for a moment, considering, wanting, needing, and finally he shifted his weight and took off into a short series of backward cross-cuts. His body still remembered. It was tattooed into his muscles, branded into his bones. His entrance was wide and smooth as eased into the spin, he lifted his leg into a camel for a few rotations before dropping into a standard sit spin, not trying to get too flashy. He just wanted to feel the rush of the air around him, wanted to hear the quiet scratching of his skates on the sweet spot of the blade. As his momentum began to fall, he raised himself up, tightening into a scratch spin. He slowly lifted his arms above his head and felt like he was soaring.

And then he was pulling out of it, left leg raised as if it instinctually knew where it was supposed to be, arms up in a beautiful position, and he came again to a stop, feet in a perfect, simple T.

Yuuri finally looked back at Victor and Yurio. They were staring at him. His younger mate had one gloved hand clasped tightly over his mouth, and older had his fists balled up against his own chest, eyes wide and shimmering.

And then Yurio released his grip on himself, shouting out across the ice, “GOD DAMN KATSUKI, THAT WAS FUCKING BEAUTIFUL!”

* * *

Yakov stood beside his office and watched the trio on the ice. He watched the hesitance in the omega’s glide. He watched him collapse on the ice and the subsequent comforting from Vitya and Yurotchka.

He watched them and felt intense pride for the men who had easily fit themselves into the category of sons in his heart.

Katsuki Yuuri. Known for his elaborate step sequences, phenomenal spins, and impressive presentation scores. Nearly a decade off the ice, and the boy still had skill. It was a testament to the amount of muscle memory that must have been cemented into him from years practicing the basics. Yakov had seen him, ten years ago, practicing school figures and basic spins even during the 6 minutes of warm-up time he was given before a competition.

It said something about a man: being able to rehearse the simplest of practices into perfection. Not concerning himself with over-the-top antics. It was the exact opposite of Vitya and Yurotchka.

It said even more about a boy who could resist the seductive persuasion of new things.  A boy who could focus his mind, body, and soul on developing the foundation to lay greater and greater bricks of skill and talent across it.

This man had developed from that boy who was so careful, cautious, and sensitive. And he had spent those years as a sweetworker. How had that changed him? For the better or for the worse?

Had it developed his confidence, or had it crushed his self-esteem? Had it hurt him to find the natural pleasure in the work or had he accepted it willingly?

What had lead him to this unusual situation, mated to Yurotchka and Vitya, two of the world’s greatest figure skaters, and Yakov’s precious students and sons?

He would watch this omega carefully, Yakov knew. But beneath his trepidation, beneath his curiosity and confusion, and even beneath his irritation at being left out of the loop, Yakov felt deeply that all would work out for the best. If it didn’t, he would be there. He would help pick up the pieces for his boys, just like he had for his daughter all these years since her presentation.

He would be there waiting, be silent support, be at the ready. Constantly vigilant, Yakov stood guard, unable to protect the hearts of his skaters, but willing to try, no matter the cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So did you like it? Tell me if you liked it! (Or if you didn't!) 
> 
> Also, if I have any artists in my readers, I'd love to have someone draw fanart of our three boys sitting on the ice like in this chapter. If anyone wanted to do it, I can give a more detailed description, or you can just go with it. Thanks!


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izzy and Sara arrive.  
> An unfortunate phone call. 
> 
> Trigger Warning: Minor Character Death. Sad Chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys. Wow. Thank you. Your response to the last chapter was amazing and you made me feel so good about myself and this story! Not only did I get super amazing, encouraging comments, but also: Clarinda0110 drew FANART, and I am so pleased by it. She mentioned a digital version is in process; any idea the best way to display it for you guys? If anyone else draws fanart I will super love you forever. Additionally, Sweet as Sugar passed the 1,000 kudos and 20,000 hits landmarks at nearly the same time, and I think that’s so cool.
> 
> I’m amazed at how popular this story has become and I’m excited to show you all what happens! There are some great plans in the works, and while I’m struggling about if I want to go down certain plot paths, most of the rest of the fic is planned out. It’s set for 35 chapters, and I’ll probably write too much and end up beyond it, but we’ll see.
> 
> Thank you thank you, please enjoy the chapter! If I’ve learned anything about writing, it’s to take the age-old adage “Write what you know,” to heart, so ladies and gents: from sorrow, I give you creativity.
> 
> Before you run off and read the chapter, I have a question for all of you. Within this story there will be at least one F/F pairing (oh gee I wonder what it is). Would you rather have smut for them just like the boys or that I just gloss over it? I've never put girl/girl explicit action in a story, but I'm all for it based on reader response. Let me know!

“So Izzy-sensei is coming to visit,” Yuuri announced, hitting the end button on his phone as he walked back into the living room.

Yuri looked up from his own phone where he was screwing around on Instagram. It was a perpetual waste of time, and he freaking loved it. “Yeah? When?”

“Right now. We have to go pick her up from the airport. Something about Seung Gil and my friends Phichit and Sara and not having a chance to call us ahead of time because of them. Oh, and needing to be around you, because she can’t stand missing out on any data.” Yuuri smirked.

Vitya chuckled. “That woman is hilarious…” He was lounging on the couch with his head in Yuri’s lap. An open book was settled face-down on his stomach; it had been abandoned in favor of closed eyes when Yuri started to play with his fine, silver hair.

“Isn’t it kind of rude of her to just show up like this?” Yuri asked, a frown twisting his lips.

“It’s Izzy-sensei. She’s brilliant, but she can be a little… impetuous.” Yuuri excused. He lifted Vitya’s legs up and joined them on the couch, settling the older man’s knees on his lap. Seemingly without thought, he reached out and grabbed Vitya’s bare foot to begin kneading into the flesh.

“This is the best day ever,” Vitya moaned, stretching out his black jean clad legs all the way to his toes.

Yuri snickered and continued scratching gently at the alpha’s scalp, letting his fingers draw the hair out in a pleasant, dull tug before repeating the same ministration on another lock.

“No one else can pick her up? I’m so comfortable!” Vitya’s whine reminded Yuri of a sleepy puppy that was being pestered to play. “I gave Yura the morning off so we could cuddle not ferry half-crazed physician researchers to and from the airport.

“Sorry, Victor,” Yuuri replied, an amused lilt in his voice. He patted Vitya's knee. “We don’t all have to go, but—“

“Hahhhhh, yeah right.” Yuri interrupted with a derisive drawl. “There’s no way any one of us is going to go or stay someplace alone. Obviously, we’ll all go.” Silly Alpha, thinking Yuri would ever choose being apart from him just to avoid running an errand.

Yuuri’s lips parted into a pleasant smile. “Well, all right then. As you wish.” God, Yuri loved that smile… Alas…

“Vitya: Up,” he commanded.

The older Russian made a harrumphing noise and turned his face to bury it in Yuri’s stomach. “Nuh uh.”

“Yes huh.” Yuri reached out and pushed the coffee table away as far as he could reach and then glanced at Yuuri deviously.  He made a clear gesture, and the omega laughed back silently. Raising a hand, Yuuri counted three ticks with his fingers, and then the pair of them stood causing the alpha to tumble off of their laps.

Vitya gave a little cry of surprise as he tumbled through the air and landed with a ‘whump’ on the plush blue carpet. Once he was face down on the floor, he looked up to glare at Yuri. “You are going to do so much conditioning tonight,” he promised.

“Worth it.”

Yuuri erupted in giggles, and it was infectious, leading the three of them into laughter. “We really, ha ha…. We really do need to get going,” he forced out, one hand clutching at his stomach. After a few deep breaths to control himself, it was with great reluctance that he led the way to the door to pull on their coats and boots.

The trip to the airport was uneventful, and collecting Izzy and Yuuri’s friend/ex-coworker Sara (whom Yuri had met as Starla) was a simple affair.

Yuuri hopped out of the front seat for Izzy and clambered into the back with Yuri and Sara. The girl was so excited. She looked at buildings and taxis as if they were the most amazing things on earth. Her wide, dark eyes stared openly out the window, tugging on Yuuri’s green shirt sleeve for him identify all sorts of places. Yuuri wasn’t very helpful, so she took to asking Yuri about everything.

“What’s that?”

“Marinsky Theatre.”

“What _that_? _”_

“St. Isaac’s Cathedral.”

“Oh my god, what is THAT?”

“Hermitage Museum. I like that one; it’s full of cats.” Yuri liked cats. They were remarkably easy-going creatures as long as they got their way. And extraordinarily predictable in their devotion to testing physics theorems and tormenting other creatures. Potya had been keeping Yuri’s dedushka company while he finished up the skating season. Both the elderly man and his caretaker doted on the spoiled Siamese-Balinese fluffball, but Yuri found himself missing the cat sorely. Potya wasn’t very fond of Victor, but maybe he’d come around if the alpha let the cat move in with them. Then again, the cat may have adopted the petulant, jealous behavior that Yuri had often displayed during his adolescent years toward the older Russian. The idea that the cat was on his side, even if there was only a “side” for childish reasons, made Yuri smirk. For now though, it was probably best that he stay with Dedka.

At that point, Yuri realized that they were certainly not going to back to Vitya’s place by the most direct route. In fact, checking his phone, Yuri determined that they should have been home 15 minutes ago

“Vitya… are you purposely driving around to key landmarks so that Sara can see them?”

“’Certainly not,” the alpha replied, tongue-in-cheek. “I’m merely taking a short cut.”

“Vitya, Palace Square is definitely not on the way home.”

“Oh, it’s so beautiful! Isn’t it beautiful, Izzy-sensei?” Sara pressed her nose to the window. “There’s so much snow!”

“It is lovely, Sara,” Izzy replied, smiling softly. Her eyes flickered back and forth from the window to her own hands. Yuri frowned, confused at her behavior, but she was an odd woman, and he dismissed the thought.

After a brief stop home for the women to refresh themselves and relax a little, it was time for Yuri’s afternoon practice. He had to admit he was a little irritated to have his tranquil morning interrupted, but watching Sara’s astonished and delighted face had been moderately enjoyable. Yuuri certainly seemed to enjoy the little tour, so Yuri decided it was a morning well spent. Anything that made Yuuri happy was a success in his mind. 

Izzy and Sara decided to have a walk around Yublieney, and Yuuri chose to accompany them. Vitya pulled out his notes and looked through them by the rink as Yuri did his usual warm-ups before heading out on the ice. He felt lighter in his skates than usual, as if anything were possible. Perhaps he was just happier now that he had the support of mates, but his jumps felt higher, his spins tighter. His technique was precise and immaculate, exactly like he wanted. After the first run-through of the day, Vitya called him over to the side of the rink for a critique.

“Yura, that was technically perfect. It’s beautiful, but don’t you still feel it’s missing something?” He tapped his pen against his lips.

Yuri frowned. “You think I should upgrade the triple lutz to a quad salchow?” He could do that. It would improve his point total.

Vitya shook his head. “No, that’ll put too much stress on you right before your next jump. Maybe after you run it at competition you can consider that. What I mean is: I don’t feel anything from your performance. What or whom is all that agape for?  What are you thinking about out there?”

 “I don’t really think about anything in particular,” Yuri mused. “Thoughts flow through my mind, but they’re not really directed. I just skate the program, Vitya…”

“Try directing them toward whatever it is you unconditionally love,” Victor suggested. “You need to merge emotion into your program or you can’t enthrall an audience. Or judges, for that matter.”

Yuri began to speak again, but Yakov bolting past the rink was enough to send him into stunned silence.

“Was that Yakov?” Yuri asked, his eyes following the coach’s movements. “And is he actually running?”

“I haven’t seen him run since you fell on that triple axel 5 years ago and cracked your head on the ice.” Vitya commented. “Although that was pretty terrifying when you didn’t get up right away.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Vitya, I’ve never fallen on a jump in my life.” Yuri said, taking faux offense.  “Do you think something is wrong? Look at him go!”

“You’re right; I didn’t know he could still move that fast...”

Together, Yuri and Vitya watched as Yakov ran along the side of the rink and abruptly collided with Yuuri, Izzy, and Sara as they turned a corner. Yuuri caught Izzy, but Sara and Yakov went sprawling onto the rubber-coated floor.

“Ouch…. I hope they’re all right.”

Yuuri and Izzy helped the other two back to their feet, and then Yuuri appeared to be introducing them.

“Eh, he looks fine. A little fall like that couldn’t damage that old man. He’s made of stone,” Yuri noted with pride. He still checked Yakov’s stance and gait, though. The man was getting up in his years.

Yakov shook Izzy’s hand but held onto it, staring at her.

“So… what is he doing now?”

“Talking to her while holding her hand.” Captain Obvious Nikiforov explained magnanimously.

Yuri rolled his eyes. “No, I mean why is still clinging to her like that?”

To their great surprise, not only did Yakov not let go of Izzy, but he grasped her hand with both of his and bowed his head to her.

Yuri screwed up his face in bewilderment. “I am so confused. Is this like love at first sight or something?”

Izzy was a wash a different facial expressions. Confused, excited, determined; it was like her face just couldn’t decide what she was feeling the most.

“Oh look, Yuuri is coming over.” Victor remarked, waving a hand at their approaching mate.

The omega was jogging toward Yuri and Vitya with a clear intent to tell them something. He wasn’t out of breath when he arrived, and although it hadn’t been a long run, Yuri still appreciated Yuuri’s stamina. He pulled up to halt beside Vitya, hands braced on the side wall.

“Yakov said a friend called him in trouble with a dynamics problem, and when he learned of Izzy’s profession, he begged her to come with him and help. I should go along as well. Is that okay?”

“Of course, but we should go with you,” Vitya answered automatically.

“But Yurio’s practice—“

“Is not going to get anywhere on the ice right now. He needs to do some mental work if he’s going to improve his program.” The uncommonly displeased look on Vitya’s face spoke volumes of his opinion on the matter.

Yuri winced, but he knew his coach was right. He could practice the routine until he was blue in the face, but that wasn’t going to improve his emoting ability. Maybe he should take some acting lessons or something. The idea made him cringe. Such bullshit. Whatever.

“If you’re sure, then we need to get going. I’m not sure if you saw us crash, but—“

“Yeah, Yakov was going about 50 kilometers per hour when you guys smashed into each other. It’s an urgent situation; I get it,” Yuri acknowledged with a nod.

Vitya’s pocket started buzzing, and he reached in to retrieve the culprit. “Oh, Yura, it’s yours.” He handed over the vibrating device.

Yuri took the phone and checked the caller. He swiped the green arrow to answer.

“Uliana?  What’s up; I’m on the ice.”

His grandfather’s caretaker sounded ragged, and her voice shook with emotion. “Yuri, you need to come to the hospital. Kolya… he isn’t doing well. I brought him here when he started having trouble breathing.”

Yuri’s eyes widened, and he felt fear lance through his chest like a falling icicle. Dedka was Yuri’s only real blood family left. He had to be okay. There was no other alternative. “You’re at the one close to his house right?”

Uliana responded in the affirmative.

“I’ll be there in 45 minutes. You tell him I’ll be right there, Uliana!” He hung up the phone. His mates were watching him, waiting.  “I need to go to the hospital now. Dedka…”

“We’ll go with you.” Victor replied instantly, probably having overheard the conversation from his close proximity.

Yuri pulled in a shaking breath. “Yakov needs Izzy and Yuuri, so---”

“We can’t leave you during something like this. This is infinitely more important than anything else I can imagine,” Yuuri interrupted in a firm tone, grabbing hold of Yuri’s arm. “I’ll tell Yakov to take Izzy-sensei wherever he needs her, and we will leave with you now.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned around and took off back toward Yakov and the women.

Victor announced he was going to pull the car up to the door, and after squeezing Yuri’s shoulder, also ran off.

Yuri stepped through the gap in the side wall and sat down on the bench to pull off his skates. He felt numb. His fingers fumbled at the laces as he tried to summon the fine motor control needed to undo the knots. It was frustrating and appalling that he couldn’t even get his own damn skates off his own damn feet. He was still struggling with them when a hand was placed on his own, and Yuuri came into view beneath him, kneeling on the ground.

He said nothing; he just tugged the skate from where it rested on Yuri’s opposite knee until his leg was stretched out in front of him. Yuri held onto the bench to keep himself from moving as his mate deftly undid the laces and tugged the boot off. He set it aside before turning his attention to Yuri’s other skate. Once both of Yuri’s feet were free, Yuuri peeled off the thin black socks and replaced them with the white cotton Yuri carried in his skate bag. He even helped Yuri into his casual black boots.

After that, Yuuri wiped down the skates with a microfiber cloth and slipped them into the cheetah-print soakers that Yuri carried. He packed up the bag and then set his hands on Yuri’s knees from his place on the floor between them. He looked up with soft-lidded eyes.

“Are you ready to go? Victor is probably out front; I saw him running for the car.”

Yuri nodded slowly, but he made no move to stand. His mate’s hands on his knees were the only warmth he knew at the moment. Everything else was icy, blocked, frozen. Fear was crystallizing in blood, rooting him to the spot.

Yuuri stood, grabbed his hand and tugged him to his feet. “Lean on me, little mate,” the omega murmured. “I’m by your side now, and you don’t have to carry all the weight ever again.” He wrapped an arm around Yuri’s waist and encouraged him forward.

Yuri took him at his word, slipping an arm around the other man’s shoulders and letting him set a quick pace toward the exit. Every step forward melted some of the ice within him. Every muffled rubber huff of his boots on the ground shattered a little more of the crystals in his body. Yuuri’s embrace forced heat into his body, raising his awareness, bringing him back, making his mind hotter. And before long, Yuri didn’t feel numb anymore. He didn’t feel cold at all.

They detached themselves from each other and flat out sprinted the last 100 meters to Vitya’s car, flinging the door open when they came to it and ignoring the snow drifts swirling around their feet. Adrenaline was spiking Yuri’s blood now that the frozen plasma was moving, and he could see his breaths as he puffed them out to maintain the fastest pace his legs could manage.

_I have to get there. I have to be there now!_

The drive to the hospital was frenzied. Yuri took the passenger seat to direct Vitya and tried to rush him at every stop sign or red light. He knew he was being unreasonable, and Vitya was driving above the speed limit by at least 10kph already, but he felt jittery. His heels bounced against the floor, and he drummed his fingers on his thigh. He couldn’t settle back into his seat and was leaning forward against the seat belt, as if the couple of inches farther along was going to help or something. He chewed on his bottom lip, an old habit that he thought he had mostly broken. As a kid, he sometimes bit it bloody when he was nervous or stressed. Old habits apparently die hard.

Yuuri was in the back seat. He too was leaning forward so that he could hold Yuri’s left hand. The comfort helped marginally.

“He’ll be fine. We just need to get there so fast, because he’ll be so happy to see me. I haven’t seen him since we just got back.” Yuri reassured himself aloud. That didn’t help at all. When a bit of traffic developed on the fastest route to the hospital, he wanted to scream.

“Come onnn! Shouldn’t all of you people be at work!? Get the fuck out of the way, you incompetent idiots! Learn to drive before you kill someone!” The windows were shut from the cold, so no one heard his chastising remarks. Neither Yuuri nor Vitya shushed him, although he expected them to. His road rage was on par with the best. Perhaps that was the real reason Vitya always drove…

Vitya pulled up to the front of the emergency department with a screech of tires. “You two go in. I’ll park and be right behind you.”

Yuri took him up on the offer and bolted from the car with Yuuri hot on his heels. They sprinted through the automatic doors, their feet pounding on the tile. Turning a corner, he recognized Uliana’s shoulder length white-blonde hair down a hallway. A tall man in a white coat stood in front of her. The physician. He should be able to tell Yuri exactly what was going on so this would never, ever happen again. A woman shouted at Yuri as he darted past the registration desk towards his dedushka’s live-in caretaker, and he ignored her entirely. Yuuri called out some sort of apology but didn’t slow his stride either.

“Uliana!” Yuri shouted as he approached. Her head swiveled, and she called back to him. Her make-up was running, mascara black giving her raccoon eyes. Her mouth was turned down in a heavy frown.

“Yura…” She said again as he and Yuuri slowed to a halt next to her, breathing hard. “Doctor, this is Yuri Plisetsky, Kolya’s grandson and next of kin.” Uliana turned back to Yuri. “He was waiting for you to get here to tell me what’s going on.” Her arms were crossed over her chest, clearly tormented by the forced waiting period.

The physician nodded. “Yes, I’m Dr. Rakovsky. Please step over into this room with me.” He gave Uliana a tissue from his pocket and shook Yuri’s hand before reaching out for Yuuri’s.

“I’m his mate,” Yuuri explained, shaking hands. Uliana let out a quiet yipping sound and stared at him, but she must have realized it was neither the time nor place to discuss changes in Yuri’s life, because she said nothing on the matter.

The doctor nodded again and gestured into a small waiting room occupied only by chairs and vending machines. They followed him in and took seats next to him as directed. Yuuri kept a hand on Yuri’s arm, stroking softly.

“How much do you know about happened to your dedushka, Mr. Plisetsky?”

“All I know is that he was having some shortness of breath,” Yuri replied in a hurry. “Uliana, what happened?”

Her face scrunched up, and the tears welling in the young woman’s eyes began to cascade down her face. “I was cooking,” she hiccupped. “I was in the kitchen making lunch, and he was watching television. And then he called to me saying he was dizzy, and I noticed he was breathing roughly.” She cut off, unable to continue.

“When can I see him?” Yuri asked, turning back to the doctor. Obviously, Uliana hadn’t done anything wrong, so any more information from her was useless. She was just as upset as he was.

The physician didn’t answer his question. He ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair before settling his elbows on his knees, but he kept eye contact with Yuri. “He was suffering from an abnormal heart rhythm. It wasn’t allowing enough blood to be pumped throughout his body quickly enough. We started him on medication right away, but he lost consciousness and went into cardiac arrest.”

Yuri stilled, terror beginning to refreeze the blood in his veins. Yuuri tightened his grip on Yuri’s shoulder.

_No._

The physician continued. “My best trauma team put in a tube for him to breathe. They used medication and CPR and attempted to shock his heart back to a normal rhythm. We did everything we could, but all of our attempts failed.”

_No._

Uliana let out a loud wail and dropped her face into her hands, shoulders shaking. Yuri felt a boulder drop into his stomach. He bit hard into his lower lip as he felt his salivary glands go into overdrive, nausea rolling over him. He glanced around desperately for a trashcan as he leaned forward slightly, hands pressed to his stomach. “I’m… going to be sick…”

By the time Yuri spoke, Yuuri was already on his feet in the corner of the room collecting one of the green bags available for such dilemmas. He returned to Yuri and handed him the bag, stroking his hair as he retook his chair.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Plisetsky, Miss Chetskaya, but your grandfather died,” Dr. Rakovsky finished, leaning forward with sorrow-filled eyes to gently pat Yuri’s arm. “Do you have any questions for me?”

_No no no no!_

“Why did this happen?” Yuri choked out. He clutched at his stomach and chest. It felt so tight. “He was fine a few days ago!”

“More than likely it had to do with the heart attack he had last year,” the physician explained. “These things can happen quite suddenly. The body can compensate for a lot, but eventually it can become too much…There’s nothing you could have done.”

“When did… when did he die?” Yuri’s voice was rough. He swallowed the excess of saliva building up in his mouth.

“Your grandfather passed about fifteen minutes ago.” The doctor said, finally lowering his eyes to look down and to his right. His jaw clenched.

Yuuri was squeezing Yuri’s shoulder tightly, trying to ground him. It wasn’t working. Yuri felt like his entire body was just floating in the air, confused, disbelieving. This was impossible. Water brash filled his mouth, and he heaved, burying his face in the round, plastic circle at the top of the bag. Yuuri pulled his blonde hair back from his face and stroked his back as he retched, emptying his stomach until nothing but dry heaves remained.

Uliana handed him a can of ginger ale, likely from the vending machine, and Dr. Rakovsky held out some tissues.

“Thank you…” Yuri said to all of them in a low, hoarse voice. His mouth tasted disgusting. Like acid and death and too many gut punches in a row. He wiped his mouth and rinsed it with the soda several times, spitting into the bag.  Yuuri, saint that he was, took the disgusting thing out his hands and carried it to the trash can.

“Listen Doctor, there must be some mistake, he was fine last week!” Yuri clenched his hands into fists before opening his hands and stretching his fingers wide, beseeching. “I was going to invite him to dinner tonight. He didn’t even get a chance to meet my mates!”

“You have my deepest sympathies,” the doctor replied with remorse. If he noticed the plurality of Yuri’s words, he didn’t mention it. “We’ve put him in Room 12, I can have my nurse take you there when you’re ready. I can also send in a chaplain or perhaps our grief counselor. She’s very kind, and many people find her very helpful.”

Vitya burst through the door on the tail of the physician’s suggestion, silver hair askew and clearly frazzled. He immediately locked eyes with Yuri. The look on the youth’s face must have been enough of an explanation, because Vitya came to him without comment and leaned down to wrap him in a tight hug. The embrace shook Yuri’s control even further, and his eyes prickled. He swallowed and chewed on the inside of his cheek.

The physician stood. “My nurse will be in shortly to take you to see him, if you want, and you can let her know if you would like someone to come by.” He patted Uliana on the shoulder and walked to the door. “Again, I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Uliana thanked him quietly, her head still drooping, but Yuri remained silent as the useless physician left. The man who had let his dedka die. He sighed, rubbing at his temples. Yuri knew that was an emotional response and that it wasn’t the doctor’s fault at all, but he didn’t care. He just wanted someone to blame.

“Yurio…” Yuuri murmured.

Vitya pulled back and reached to hug Uliana. The woman collapsed into his chest, her strength finally failing her as she broke down into sobs. The alpha’s face curled in distress. Off-handedly, Yuri wondered how difficult this was for the man as an alpha, because he would instinctively feel like a failure for not being able to protect his mate, even if it was from an unavoidable event. _Inevitable_ …

“Vitya,” Yuri breathed. “Why did this happen?”

The alpha turned to him, drawing Uliana along with him. “Your dedushka was an elderly man who lived a long, full life…” He trailed off.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Not like this. Not. Like. This!”

Several people came into the waiting room and huddled in the corner, but Yuri hardly noticed. Things had just been getting better. He was finally starting to get settled. Finally became an adult. Dedka would have been so happy for Yuri to have found Yuuri, and he would have come around to Vitya eventually. Dedka liked... had liked Vitya. Then something the doctor said sparked in his memory.

_Fifteen minutes. I missed him by 15 minutes._

And that was it. Yuri crumpled to the floor and leaned against Vitya’s leg, cradling his head in his hands. Yuuri was still clutching at his arm and came down with him, covering the youth with his body protectively. He laid his cheek down on Yuri’s golden hair and hugged tight.

“I’m so sorry, Yurio. I’m so sorry.” He murmured into the boy’s hair. Yuuri was enveloping him, trying to take the pain away, but it wracked through Yuri regardless, and finally, his shaky grip on himself fumbled. He gritted his teeth together but the sound escaped anyway. A keening whine of desperation calling for help. Begging for safety. Pleading for this to all have been a dream.

“Is he your omega?” A new voice asked Vitya. Yuri glanced up to see a stranger looking in a confused manner between the three mates.

Victor frowned. “No, that’s his omega.” He gestured to Yuuri. “I’m his coach and his friend. And what’s it to you?”

“Right… it’s just, I haven’t seen such an emotional display from anyone except an omega before.” The man rubbed the back of his head, staring at Yuri with an oddly amused expression.

Yuuri looked up and glared daggers. “Don’t you dare tell my Alpha how he’s supposed to grieve!”

Vitya settled Uliana on a chair and gently extracted his leg from Yuri’s grip. Then he pulled the man aside with a hand on his shoulder. “His dedushka, his only blood family, just died suddenly. You tell me you wouldn’t be upset. Get out of here with your ridiculous curiosity! There’s no room for it around him.” The alpha ushered the man to the door and forcibly pushed him out. “And if any of the rest of you have any bullshit to say, you can go right on out of here with him!”  His eyes blazed gold, eyebrows drawn together. He was shaking, trying to keep a lid on barely controlled rage. The remaining man and two women shook their heads, glancing away.

Yuri couldn’t bring himself to care about them; his mind was echoing Vitya’s words over and over in his skull like a heavy wind beating down the walls of a cavern. _Just died… just died… only family just died…_ It reverberated in his heart, causing a clenching sensation, and he wondered if maybe he wasn’t having a heart attack himself.

Yuuri started petting Yuri’s hair. It should have felt good. It normally felt really good, but now even that made Yuri feel guilty. Who was he to enjoy his mate’s touch when his dedka would never enjoy anything ever again? He leaned against his Yuuri, trying to draw in the support like he had at the rink earlier. It just wasn’t working this time.

The nurse came. She was empathetic, but all business and suggested she take them outside Kolya’s door, and they could go in when they were ready. Vitya and Yuuri got Uliana and Yuri on their feet and lead them to follow the nurse.

Walking was hard. Yuri’s legs fell like they were full of lead, and his knees just did not want to bend. Yuuri and Vitya supported him with arms around his waist and shoulders, and Vitya had a hold on Uliana’s hand. She shuffled along beside him staring at the ground passing by. Yuri didn’t mind her touching Vitya, and it seemed as though Yuuri was far more concerned with other things as well. Yuri vaguely remembered that in emergency situations platonic comforting of the grieving supposedly tended to override mating couples’ possessive urges. He figured Izzy would find that interesting, if he remembered anything about this day when he saw the physician again. Was it only today that she arrived, and Sara had asked the names of all the buildings? It felt like it had been years.

The nurse left them at the door to room 12, and Yuri took a deep breath before grabbing the handle and twisting. There was no reason to wait. He knew what was on the other side of the door, and he didn’t know if he could hurt more than he did right then anyway. The door fell open with the creak of unoiled hinges.

Yuri pulled away from his mates and approached the bedside with short, stuttering steps. He didn’t want to see him. He needed to see him. It couldn’t be true. He needed to see the proof! He couldn’t bare it. He couldn’t see him like this!

Yuri looked down at the silent form lying prone on the bed. He was all tucked up in blankets, only his face showing.

Dedka’s face was milk-white and expressionless; his eyes were closed. Heavy wrinkles creased his skin, and he looked dried out: a husk of his once boisterous living self. The blankets did not rise and fall above his chest. The beat of a heart didn’t thump beneath Yuri’s hand.

Yuri pulled in a rough, wet inhale of breath through his nose, and he lowered one quivering hand to stroke through the old man’s short gray and white hair. He placed his lips to his waiflike forehead. It was cold and hard… empty of the life and laughter that defined Dedka.

“He’s not here anymore…” Yuri said aloud in realization. “He’s not in there at all.”

“They say that the souls of the resting stay for some time near their body to watch over their loved ones, but no, he’s not in there anymore.” Vitya agreed from his place at Yuri’s right.

Yuri slid his hand down to rest of Dedka’s hollowed cheek. “He was- he was a good man.”

“He was one of the best,” Vitya agreed again, setting a palm on the small of Yuri’s back and rubbing in soothing circles.

“He took care of me. Even when Mama left... Even when Papa and Babka died… He was always there for me!”  

“He loved you like no one else, Yura,” Uliana added with a sniffle. She reached the bedside next to him and took hold of his hand.

“I can’t believe this is happening right now. It doesn’t feel real.” Yuri dropped his ear to his dedka’s chest and listened. He listened as hard as he could, hoping for the faintest noise. The smallest proof. But no strong, sure heartbeat echoed back at him like it had every time he had sat in the man’s lap to read storybooks. No movement of lungs lulled him like waves as it had when he was little and sick and couldn’t sleep.

Nothing. Emptiness.

There was only silence. That and… _So this is sadness._

Before he knew it, Yuri found himself kneeling on the tile, forehead pressed against the bed, fingers gripping at the thin sheets. A howl tore itself from his throat, and he couldn’t stop it. His face felt hot, and he tasted salt. When his breath ran out, shaking sobs wracked his chest. Uliana folded herself against his side and cried with him.

Yuri had thought he had felt the deepest of grief when his father died. Thought when his mother left him for her career that he knew true sadness and anger. It was still with him. Still caused him to rage randomly, but he thought he had understood it. Now, he learned that he hadn’t. He didn’t. An overwhelming cage of iron bars and tiny thorns was dropping down to enclose him, and there was no way he could get out. He couldn’t have run if he tried.

“Yurio…” Yuuri stroked his hair. His voice was broken, pained. “Do you want to be alone with him for a few minutes?”

Yuri’s response was out of his mouth, and he was upright again before he even realized it. “No. No, don’t leave, please.” He knew he sounded desperate. His voice high-pitched and haggard; he didn’t even sound like himself.

“Of course we’ll stay then. We’ll always stay with you. Is there anything else we can do?” Vitya answered. He knelt to the ground, leaning against the bed next to Yuri. Just being near him. Just trying to be supportive without being overbearing. He had to have felt completely lost. There was nothing for the alpha to fight against. Nothing he could do to help Yuri. Unless he could answer some things…

All of the questions were bubbling up in Yuri and overflowing out of his mouth. “What do I do? What do I say? Can he still hear me? Is he like an angel or a ghost or did he just cease to exist when he… died.” His hands felt weak, one still clasped in Uliana’s grip. He looked down at them to find them blurry and blinked away the wetness in his eyes. “God that hurts to say. My dedka died today. And I wasn’t there. He was always there for me, and I wasn’t even there for his last moments!”

Uliana released his hand and turned to face him fully. “You couldn’t even…” She took a deep steadying breath before continuing. “You wouldn’t even have been allowed in the same room with him Yura… They wouldn’t let me in the operating room. I watched from the windows how hard they tried, though. They got his heart beating properly, but then it just stopped completely. And they got it beating again… but it stopped again. Then I started getting really upset, and the nurse pulled me away…” Her wet blue eyes dropped to the floor between them.

“I should have been here. I should have been able to say good bye at the very least!” Yuri grabbed hold of her shoulders. “There has to be something I can do. I have to make it right somehow!”

Vitya reached around and settled his hands on top of Yuri’s, gently unclasping the fingers from Uliana’s sweater. He said nothing, just curled Yuri’s hands into his own and drew him back against his chest.

“Oh Yurio, you know there’s not. There’s no one you can deal with to bring a person back to life, no matter how much you love them.” Yuuri murmured from the side, stroking his arm.

“How do I say good bye now? I’m just… so… angry. I don’t know how to contain it. I know there’s no one to actually be mad at, and I still feel like I need to yell at someone.” He was pleading. He knew it. Pathetic…

“You can yell at me,” Uliana suggested. “I should have noticed earlier. I should have taken him to the hospital sooner, but instead I just gave him his inhaler and prepared soup for lunch. I should have known what was going on. If I’d brought him here sooner, then maybe…” She dropped her head to his chest with a heavy, ragged sigh. Her arms were limp and she let her friend support her small weight.

Yuri shook his head. “It’s not your fault,” he acknowledged, discomfited. “He’s known you since you since you were a little girl, and you were with him constantly for the last 2 years. If anyone was going to notice anything, it was going to be you.” He wrapped his and Vitya’s linked arms around her, feeling thankful that the bonds with his mates were overwhelmed by emotion and not going haywire from all the physical crap with outside contact.

“We should call your mother…” Uliana mumbled against his chest.

Yuri’s eyes narrowed, and he instinctually drew back slightly. “I’m not calling that bitch! I’m sure she doesn’t care anyway. She hasn’t been back to see us in…what is it 6 years?”

“Regardless of her, I’m going to call Yakov, and let him know what’s going on,” Vitya announced in a quiet voice.

Yuri nodded. “Yakov was good friends with Dedka… You should tell him.”

“Ask if the omega is doing okay with Izzy-sensei,” Yuuri requested.

“I’ll be right back okay?” Vitya stroked a broad hand down Yuri’s back from neck to tail bone while Uliana’s face was hidden in the blond’s chest. Calm oozed from where the touch hit, spreading out in waves across Yuri’s skin, delving into the muscle and prying apart the fibrils. It was almost as if Vitya had injected some kind of steroid and forced his body to relax. He leaned his shoulders back against the bed and glanced at the alpha.

Yuri drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah, just… be quick, please. Having you here is helping…”

Vitya encouraged Yuri and Uliana up into chairs and set a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder before he stepped out of the room to make the phone call.

A brief moment of quiet descended, and Yuri unconsciously settled his hand over Uliana’s trembling knee. “It’s not your fault,” he said, not looking at her, but instead at the face of his resting grandfather.

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “I know that… I do, but still I…”She trailed off.

“Yurio,” Yuuri cut in softly. He was wringing his hands. “I know that this may be difficult to answer, but did your grandfather have his affairs in order? I don’t know Russian, but is there anything I can help you do?” Yuuri knelt at his younger mate’s feet and looked up into his red-rimmed eyes.

Yuri didn’t know if anything had been arranged. He knew the man wanted to be buried in the cemetery plot next to Albina, Yuri’s late grandmother, but other than that…

“Kolya had everything set up,” Uliana replied with a sniff. “Even picked out and paid for his own coffin and left a deposit at his friend’s funeral home. I told him he was being morbid, but he didn’t want Yura or me to have to deal with too much.”

Yuri felt a corner of his mouth curve up. He was almost surprised his dedka hadn’t planned the funeral down to fifteen minute increments. The idea made him remember his 6th birthday party, which Kolya had planned tirelessly for over the course of the previous 3 months. It had been a carnival. He’d gathered the older neighborhood kids to run the little games, and he himself had dressed up like a ridiculous clown. Yuri remembered laughing and laughing. He’d had the best time.

“Remember when Kolya brought that watermelon home?” Uliana asked suddenly.

“And then he made us hit at it with a stick while blindfolded,” Yuri said with a chuckle. “But he put it on the grass, and it just kept rolling around. It took us at least 45 minutes to finally get it. I think we hit each other ten times on accident before you smashed it open.”

“He always wanted to try new things. He loved other cultures and languages and foods… I think that watermelon was a pretty good example,” She smiled a little, reminiscing. She wiped at her damp cheeks with a tissue.

“It’s supposed to be on sand,” Yuuri clarified with a hand covering his mouth and bright eyes. “So it doesn’t roll quite as much. And usually we don’t have multiple people blinded at once.”

Yuri pulled himself from nostalgia to chastise his mate: “You hush, we didn’t know what we were doing. Ulya and I were just kids. That old bastard laughed hysterically the whole time. Probably set the whole thing up wrong on purpose just to frustrate the crap out of us.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Uliana agreed, settling her elbows on her knees to steeple her fingers under her chin. “He was such a trickster! Always playing jokes on you and your babushka. I remember when he wrapped you in your bed with plastic wrap. It took forever to get you out because he hid all the scissors and knives.”

“I got him back,” Yuri expressed adamantly. “He couldn’t get into his car the next day because I packed snow around the doors and drenched it in water to form ice. He had to get two extension cords and use Babka’s hair dryer on it!” Yuri had gotten in so much trouble from Babka for that, saying he could have broken the car door handles or locks, and _what if there had been an emergency?!?!_  Dedka, however, had tousled his hair and congratulated him on a proper revenge before calling into work that his car wouldn’t start. They’d spent the day together ice skating on the nearby pond.

“Didn’t he chase you around with an ice cube tray until he could dump the whole thing down your shirt in retaliation?”

“Yep. And while it wasn’t particularly creative, it was effective.” Yuri tapped his chin and reached out for Yuuri, who took his hand and allowed himself to be drawn back to his feet so Yuri could wrap his arms around the omega’s waist.

“He sounds like a fun and loving person,” Yuuri noted, stroking Yuri’s shoulders with a fond smile.

“He was so fun,” Uliana gushed. “He took me to the duck pond once when I was a little girl. Told me that was where he proposed to Albina. Then we took out a rowboat, and he re-enacted it for me. I felt like a princess. Then he gave me bread to feed the ducks.” She laughed then.

“My dedushka used to be a military pilot, you know, in his younger years.” Yuri told Yuuri, looking up at him through thick, blonde lashes. “He really was a good man.”

“Hell, he practically adopted me…” Uliana said, adding evidence to Yuri’s statement. “I don’t want to think about where I would be now without his kindness and generosity.”

“He was a great man,” Yuri acknowledged. Then he buried his face in Yuuri’s stomach and mumbled, “I’m gonna miss him so much!”

Yuuri looked on sympathetically, head tilted to the side, and continued to gently massage Yuri’s shoulders. “I wish I could have met him…”

Yuri stilled with his face pressed into his mate’s stomach and took a deep breath. Then he pulled back and pushed Yuuri a little to give him room to stand, grabbing the his hand in a tight grip.

He looked up, though the ceiling, and imagined the sky. He imagined that Kolya Plisetsky was watching him from above, just like he had so many times before when the man watched him skate, but he couldn’t find him in the stands from the ice. Yuri knew his grandfather would be smiling during this introduction regardless of the circumstances, and it heartened him, steeled his resolve.

“Dedka, I want you to meet Katsuki Yuuri. He’s my mate, and I’m so lucky to have him. My presentation went… a little awry.” Yuri’s lips compressed into a firm line to avoid a grimace at the thought, but then they relaxed. “And he’s the reason I’m standing here alive and well instead of watching the world from above like you are now.”

Yuuri flushed as Yuri raised their joined hands to his lips, earning a small smile from his grieving mate.

“Yuuri, please meet my grandfather, Nikolai Plisetsky. He’s the man who raised me even before my mother left. He was my home, before my presentation, and now my home is you and Vitya. Along with Yakov, he is the man I owe for both of my homes, because without him, I wouldn’t be a person that you wanted to be with.”  Yuri avoided glancing at Uliana when he mentioned Vitya. He would explain it to her later… she would be fine with it. He held eye contact with Yuuri for a long moment, trying to repress anguish. This should have been a happy moment, and he would be damned if he was going to cry during it.

Yuuri did it for him, tears overflowing the little pools that had taken up residence in his brown eyes and streaming down his cheeks. He wiped his face with his sleeve and mimicked Yuri by looking up.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir. Please know that your grandson will be well taken care of while you two are apart. I will do everything I can to keep him feeling happy, cherished, and loved. Thank you for raising him into this wonderful man; he is so unique and amazing… I couldn’t wish for a more compatible person for myself. Just… thank you.” Yuuri looked down from the world above and back to hold Yuri’s gaze.

“He’d have wanted you to call him Kolya…” Uliana said from her chair. “If not Dedushka…” Her cheeks were wet again.

For the second time in so many hours, the door banged open and Vitya burst through. His eyes were narrowed, worried, and his hair was askew, as if he’d been dragging his hands through it like he did after Yuri saved a particularly haphazard jump.

“Yura, we have a problem. I didn’t even get to mention the situation here before Yakov started babbling about the person he asked Dr. Yang to help… apparently it’s someone very close to us.”

“Who?” Yuri’s eyebrows drew together. He hardly knew any omegas.

“He wouldn’t say, but Dr. Yang is asking for your help now; apparently, it’s a dangerous situation.” He wrung his hands, glancing over at Kolya’s body with a broad grimace. Clearly, he didn’t want to take Yuri away so soon.

_When it rains, it fucking pours._

“Are we each getting our own breakdown day this week? Vitya, you’re not holding out on us right? You’re due tomorrow… let’s stay home all day, and avoid everything conceivably able to cause emotional turmoil.”

“Yura, Yakov sounded extremely worried. We can’t be flippant right now, please.” Vitya reproached. Yuri winced.

“Go, Yura,” Uliana suggested. “I’ll take care of Kolya and get everything sorted out. If you have to be there for this person, then it’s important you get going.”

Yuri groaned. “All right, fine, Christ.” He stood and ventured back close to his dedka, wrapping the man’s cold, bony hand in his own. “You have a good rest, old man… I’ll see you on the other side.” He laid his forehead against his grandfather’s one last time and then rose, replacing Kolya’s hand back under the blankets.

Yuri strode confidently across the room, but he turned back when he reached the door and placed his hand to his shoulder, palm facing out, and flicked his neck with his index finger. “Davai vyp’yem, Dedka. You go enjoy your booze, and some years from now, I’ll be up there to argue bourbon versus single-malt with you again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many notes this time:  
> The location that I have Victor living in is in the posh and popular Central District. It’s about a half hour from the airport and 20 minutes from the ice rink. He’s takes a little foray around some popular landmarks for Sara and the others to see.  
> The Hermitage Museum is indeed full of cats. Check out this adorable article.  
> http://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/destinations/europe/russia/st-petersburg/articles/St-Petersburg-the-cats-of-the-Hermitage/
> 
> For those who were kind enough to send their worries for my grandmother, thank you so much. You may have realized that she passed, from this chapter. I was two hours too late to see her go, but my mother and aunt made it to her, and that’s what was really important. The frustration that my siblings and I felt (we were all currently en route to her, but I was the closest) felt almost tangible, and I hope I managed to make that come through Yuri. I feel bad, doing this to him, but it happened to me, so it had to happen to one of them… Sorry my sweet Russian tiger angel.
> 
> At the end, Yuri flicks his neck and says "Davai vyp’yem, Dedka," meaning, "Let's drink, Grandpa." The flick to the neck is a common gesture suggesting the same activity. This is a shout-out to the unfortunate average lifespan of Russian men: 59. (Women get to 70, by the way.) While that's lower is rural areas than cities, a major of cause of this early death involves complications from alcohol abuse. Kolya wasn't one of these alcoholic gentlemen, and I'd say he lived to his late sixties or seventies, but that doesn't mean he didn't indulge once in a while.
> 
> I hope you didn't mind Uliana. She won't be playing a major part in this story, but I needed her for the chapter.
> 
> So there's a couple of things I wanted to come across about Victor and Yuuri in this chapter. Can you please tell me if you felt this way?  
> Yuri doesn't notice them unless they are directly in front of him. He basically has tunnel vision from his grief, so they should kind of be disappearing and reappearing in sort of a fragmented manner.  
> Victor has no idea how to deal with the situation and just tries to be close and comforting. His alpha is going nuts because there is no physical enemy he can attack, which is why he uses a bit of overkill on the guy who talks down about Yuri. Feeling Yuri's emotions and not being able to do anything about it is rendering him kind of useless... His own parents died decades ago and he still harbors some personal trauma from it. That doesn't help.  
> Yuuri is overwhelmed by the situation but is used to comforting people. Not knowing the person who died isn't having any effect on the amount of grief he feels, because he's basically tapping into Yuri's emotions. This is akin to what it feels like when someone you love is hurting... you hurt. Just for Yuuri and Victor, it's more than that. The only thing Yuuri really knows in this situation is that touch should help, so he's always in contact with Yuri.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mila's in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... As a Florida resident, I had to evacuate because of Hurricane Irma... that bitch. For that reason, a natural disaster is probably going to end up in this fic. Not for the next couple of chapters, though. 
> 
> Despite that, I managed to get this up before Tuesday! Enjoy!

Izzy unlocked the door and cracked it open to peer inside. A rush of omegian pheromones smashed into her, sweet and strong and floral, driving her senses wild; she leaned against the doorframe for a moment to mentally compose herself. Several feet away, Yakov let out a growl and clenched his fists, taking an instinctive half-step forward. Sara stood in front of him, blocking his approach. She looked back a Mila with a worried expression but upheld her role as temporary fence.

Thank god Izzy’d had the foresight to ask Yakov to stand aside. If he’d taken the full brunt of the scent when the door opened, he’d have already been ten feet into the flat. Izzy slipped into the room, maneuvering herself to keep the gap as small as possible, and shut the door firmly behind. For once, she found herself thankful that her beta dynamic kept her from being completely overwhelmed. This extreme level of pheromone production was unnatural, and it felt somewhat like when a pressurized champagne bottle popped its cork for release. Something was very wrong with the omega putting out the mind-fogging scents.

Not only was the scent weighing Izzy down as she padded across the floor, the heat was stifling. Her chest and head felt congested, and she felt sweat spring instantly from her pores. The thermostat on the wall was set for 25 degrees, but the needle was hovering somewhere in the upper 30s… so the heat had to be coming from the omega herself. Izzy immediately censored the thought. _From Mila herself_. The situation was swiftly encroaching on dangerous emergency territory.

On the drive to Mila’s flat, Yakov had been insistent that his skater was not, under any circumstances, to be called or referred to as an omega. He tried to explain that Mila did not identify with that dynamic and had been struggling with it for the last five years. With heavy gravity, the older man warned her that any mention or persistence of Mila as her assigned secondary gender would set the girl off… and the result would not be pretty. Anyone that named her “Omega” would see dire consequences come to their physical form courtesy of Mr. Feltsman himself.

Izzy was floored. She had heard of transdynamic individuals but had never had the opportunity to treat any. Despite her growing worry for the unusual young woman, Izzy still felt the thrill of curiosity and glee of a researcher bubble inside herself as she pushed open the bedroom door.

The sight inside was simultaneously heart-breaking and horrifying.

Mila was a tall, red-haired woman with pale skin flushed by her fever. She laid panting, nude and spread-eagle on her mattress, all other bedding thrown to the floor. Her eyes were wild, darkened silver, fixed on the ceiling with tears flowing freely from them.

She had tied one her wrists to the headboard with a scarf and was using the other to draw her red-lacquered nails across the skin of her thighs, stomach, and chest. Bloody scores were left in their wake, criss-crossing the many others she had already torn into herself. Slick pooled on the water-proof cover of the mattress, flowing over her legs as she thrashed. Her thighs squeezed together, clearly trying to relieve the desperate urge she was denying herself. Angry moans and little squeaks were the only sounds that emerged from Mila’s bitten lips as she tried to force herself to be silent.

This woman had tied herself down. Nearly bitten through her pink lips. Caused herself continuous, indescribable pain. And very nearly sent herself into nearly into dynamic shock. All to deny herself her dynamic’s requirement: A fulfilled heat.

“Why in the lowest level of hell…?” The words escaped Izzy’s mouth, and Mila’s head swiveled to look at her.

“Who… who the fuck are you? What are you doing here??” Mila croaked.  Her voice was raspy, indicative of either screaming or gagging herself to avoid that very act. Izzy reached out a hand in an attempt sooth her patient, but it seemed to cause the exact opposite reaction from what she intended. Mila cringed, drawing herself back against the headboard into a half-sitting position even as she reached out automatically for Izzy with her free hand.

The physician took a few steps forward to reach the bedside, but she didn’t touch the woman below her.

“Mila, my name is Izzy Yang. I’m a doctor from Japan. I specialize in dynamics, and I’ve been seeing your friend Yuri Plisetsky. Yakov Feltsman asked me to come in and take a look at you since I’m here visiting Yuuri and Yuri.”

“You… help me?” Mila’s eye brows furrowed. Her deep blue eyes were blurry with unshed sorrow and pain. She was probably having trouble staying with it and keeping herself out of the cloud of heat haze. “I need… my meds aren’t working anymore.” She gestured with her free hand to the pills on the floor.

Izzy knelt down to collect a few of the pharmaceuticals littering the ground, and her eyes widened. The suspicious red and orange coloring matched that of black-market Korean suppressants and scent blockers. Packs of alphan pheromone patches, by the scent, made her mouth water, and she tore open the night stand drawer and threw them in to hide them away from herself. What she found inside that drawer made her eyes go even wider, and she reached in with quivering hands.

“Mila… are you using alphan hormones?” The syringes inside were clean and capped, unused, but the little tell-tale vials of orange tinted fluid were unmistakable to someone in Izzy’s field.

Mila didn’t reply. She merely groaned and threw an arm over her head, pressing her face into the crook of her elbow and twisting into herself.

Izzy grabbed her black bag and pulled out her stethoscope, blood pressure cuff, and thermometer.

“I need to take your vitals and run a few tests. You don’t have to do anything, but I need to touch you, okay?” Izzy described. If Mila didn’t consent, the woman could well die here tonight. There was nothing Izzy could do if Mila wouldn’t let anyone touch her. She shrugged the thought off. No. She would be able to help. She had to.

“No… you’re Beta. Can’t trust you. Don’t know you. Where’s… where’s Yakov?” She sat up marginally from the headboard and uncovered her eyes, looking anxiously around the room for her coach.

There was no way in hell that Izzy was letting an alpha come into Mila’s room with the girl splurting out enough desperate omegian pheromones to entice a hoard of alphas and betas. It was hard enough for Izzy herself, and she was Beta-O! She made a mental note regarding that… According to her previous theories she shouldn’t be reacting to omegian hormones at all, but that was a conundrum for a different, less urgent moment.

“He’s outside, but it’s too dangerous for him to come in here right now.” Izzy pulled her phone from her pocket and clicked Yakov’s name on speed dial. He’d insisted she add him to her list during the drive over.

His voice came onto the speaker phone, loud and rough with worry. “Dr. Yang? How is Mila; what’s going on in there!”

“Yakov…. I… hurt…” Mila stuttered out.

“Mila! Girl you let that doctor do whatever she needs to; you hear me?! She’s gonna make you better!”

“She’s Beta… can’t trust her when I’m… like this…”

Izzy’s mouth twitched. No Betas. Definitely no Alphas. Omegas then. Mila smacked her forehead with a hand and dragged it down her face in irritation. _Idiot. You have a perfect temporary solution sitting outside the door!_

Yakov hadn’t wanted any more people than necessary to know about Mila’s current condition, so Izzy had written off her omega companion immediately. Which was absolutely ridiculous. There was no time for this secrecy bullshit when someone’s life was on the line.

“Send in Sara,” Izzy directed. “Let her come in. I wanted to keep Mila’s situation private as much as possible, but I need her. Sara, I need your help! I’m hanging up now.” She did so over Yakov’s incoherent, spluttering response.

After a few seconds, the flat door clicked open with Yakov’s key, and Sara rounded the corner. “Izzy-sensei, it smells like a bomb of omegian pheromones went off in here, what is ---” She stopped when she saw Mila’s exhausted, bleeding form.

The speed at which she crossed the room was phenomenal; in a split second she had herself wrapped around Mila, pulling her back down into a reclined position. The red-head moaned desperately, compulsively ripping at Sara’s clothes with her free hand.

“No… no… I don’t want an alpha!” She cried out even as her body betrayed her.

“I’m no Alpha, honey,” Sara breathed, situating Mila’s nose to her throat. “You lie there and breathe with me. That sandalwood scent is just my mimicry. It’s okay, you let me take care of you, okay? Be a good girl now.” She wrapped an arm tight around Mila’s waist and pulled the woman tight against herself. Blood smeared from Mila's many scratches onto Sara's skin, the sweet paid it no mind.

Izzy let out a sigh of relief as Mila visibly relaxed and curled into the small, dark-haired omega. Sara looked over Mila’s shoulder with confused silver eyes, and twitched her head a bit, glancing significantly at the medical instruments in the physician’s hands.

Izzy understood. She handed Sara the thermometer, and the omega coaxed their patient into holding it her mouth. She kissed the Mila’s forehead softly, telling her how good she was being. Saying what a great job she was doing. Saying Sara and Izzy would take good care of her, and everything would be okay.

Izzy slipped a blood pressure cuff around Mila’s arm and took a reading. It was high. Dangerously low. 70/30. The thermometer beeped and Sara gently took it from Mila’s mouth and returned it to Izzy. It flashed 40.2 C. Sara cooed at the red head, nuzzling in her hair and encouraging Mila to breathe against her scent gland again.

Izzy murmured the levels out loud to herself, and Sara cocked her head quizzically as best she could in her knot with Mila. “How’s she have low blood pressure and a high temperature? That doesn’t make sense…”

Mila couldn’t control herself. She wrapped her legs around Sara’s thigh and ground down, a loud moan dragging from her throat. Sara encouraged it, pushed back up in between the other woman’s legs. She stroked up and down Mila’s side with one hand, the other still buried in the fiery-red locks to keep Mila’s head positioned to breathe in Sara’s scent.

“It does in this particular case… Her blood is rushing to her brain and her skin… slowing down and hanging out in the capillaries instead of rushing back to the heart…” Dynamic shock… She was definitely going into dynamic shock. Hypovolemic shock would have dropped her temperature with her blood pressure…

Izzy finished taking Mila’s pulse just before the woman cried out: “No…No! I don’t want that! I can’t do this!” She tried to wrench herself away, but her own body resisted, turning back to Sara.

Sara’s bewildered expression grew even more confused, her silver eyes narrowing. She stilled her hands and simply tightened her grip into hug, drawing Mila even more firmly against her.

“Mila, when is the last time you had a heat?” Izzy asked. She scurried over to Mila’s refrigerator and pulled ice packs out of the freezer. After wrapping them in the discarded sheets on the floor, Izzy lined them against Mila’s burning skin.

“I don’t have heats,” Mila bit out, her voice hissing. “I’m Alpha; I’m not supposed to have heats.”

“What?” Sara asked. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re clearly---.”

“Sara!” Izzy hissed out. “Don’t say anything about it!”

Mila forced herself away from Sara, holding herself at arm’s length with determined effort and glaring at the smaller woman. “Clearly… clearly what… you... don’t… you don’t know anything!” She swallowed thickly. “I may have been assigned Omega at presentation but I… I’m an alpha!”

Sara scoffed. “Uh huh. Whatever.” The impatience in her voice was evident. “Just come back here and let me wrap you up in mimicry until Izzy can fix you then.”

It was getting to the sweet; Izzy could tell. Watching an alpha or omega in pain was difficult for the average person, but for a spiceworker, or particularly for the more sensitive and empathetic sweetworkers, it could become traumatizing. Sara had probably trained for the entirety of her life after presentation to be able to help people in the throes of heat and ruts… And now the redhead wouldn’t let her do her job.

Mila released herself with a sigh, letting Sara fold her back up into her embrace. Sara was shivering from the ice packs laid around them, but she made no mention of her discomfort. She seemed to take solace in the fact that, at the least, Mila was letting herself be held.

A pounding came on the door. “Doctor, let me come in and see her! I need to see my girl is okay!”

“No!” Izzy yelled back at Yakov. “Don’t you dare come in here!” She bolted for the door. “Get back and hold your breath!” She shouted through the door.

Izzy counted to five and then cranked the door open and shimmied out, closing it, and the omegian pheromones, firmly behind the scent-blocking door.

“Did you forget she’s anatomically Omega!” Izzy hissed, poking the man in his chest. “You’re Alpha. With the pheromones she’s emitting, if you go in there you would jump her even if she was your damn biological daughter! You want to traumatize her?!”

Yakov froze. “I didn’t… I didn’t think of that. I just want to help her!” His blue eyes drooped, and his hands fell to her side. Helplessness painted itself into his every motion.

“I know. Just be calm and listen to me. Mila is going to go into dynamic shock soon, and Sara can only keep it at bay for so long. She needs to let an alpha take her.”

Yakov shook his head wildly. “No. No. She won’t do it. You shouldn’t even ask her. Milka was completely tormented after her presentation. She hasn’t been with an alpha or beta or as far as I know, even had a heat since!”

“You told me Mila was twenty-four. You’re telling me she’s been suppressing for five years?!” That was absurd. Unheard of. This debacle should have come to a head years ago. It was amazing that Mila was still alive! This had to be dealt with immediately or they weren’t going to get another chance to make it right.

“Is there an alpha close to her? I need you to call them and bring them here. Whoever she’d be most comfortable with,” Izzy commanded. “It has to be an alpha, so if there isn’t one then you’ll need to contact an on-call emergency spicehouse. You have those here, right?”

“I told you that she won’t---”

Izzy cut him off. “Do it! I’ll try to come up with something else in the time we have left, but you have to be prepared! She’ll die otherwise!” Izzy shook a fist in front of the man’s face. “Now: hold your damn breath again!”

Yakov covered his nose and mouth with his shirt sleeve, and Izzy turned Yakov’s key (where it was still lodged in the lock) before ripping open the door and tearing back through. Just before slamming the door shut, she heard Yakov’s voice, muffled with cloth, say: “She might prefer that…”

The sound of sobs greeted her. Rounding the corner, Izzy saw that Mila had broken the cloth binding her right wrist to the headboard and was now splayed out beneath Sara, writhing up into her. Sara was lying mostly on top of Mila, one arm both holding herself up and serving as a pillow for the redhead. Her right hand was trailing down Mila’s stomach, only the fingertips touching, tracing the red welts she had left on herself. Their legs were tangled together, Mila trying to stop herself from grinding into the other woman’s pelvis.

“You really don’t want me to use my hands or anything?” Sara asked. She was out of her element; that much was obvious. Sara had decent mimicry skills, but she’d mentioned to Izzy that she had nothing on Yuuri. It was exceedingly rare that she, as an omega femme, actually needed to use it. On the whole, Omega men were better at simplifying their emotions enough to conjure the requirements for alphan mimicry. Women were just too complex to separate everything cleanly.

But Sara was a sweet. And sweets didn’t lose their composure over something as simple as an unusual patron.

 “Don’t… don’t want anyone to touch me… like this. I’m not myself.” Mila gasped out. She kept pushing Sara’s hands down her body before abruptly pulling them back up, at war with herself.

“Mila…” Izzy said, willing herself to be stern. “Your body is desperate. You’re going to go into shock. I’m afraid not even a beta will do now. You absolutely must let an alpha take you. Now is there someone---”

Mila’s head whipped around, and she pierced Izzy with a glare so rage-filled, so disgusted, that Izzy felt personally traumatized. She lashed out an arm and grabbed Izzy’s wrist. The touch burned and nails bit into Izzy's skin. She wondered how on earth Sara was managing with her whole body flush against the boiling woman. Perhaps those shivers from earlier weren’t actually from the ice packs.

“I… would rather…Die!!” Mila forced out, needing deep breaths to summon the amount of repugnance and vehemence she wanted for the sentence.

“Mila… you _are_ dying…” Izzy told her with sad eyes, ignoring the burning of the girl’s flesh on her own.

“Then let me…” Mila released Izzy and turned away, burying herself into Sara’s chest. “I can… I can handle that.”

Most of Sara’s clothes had been ripped apart while Izzy was out talking to Yakov. Sara winced as Mila’s heated body came back into full contact with bare skin, but readily accepted the woman into her embrace, stroking her hands through the red hair and up and down Mila’s back.

Izzy clenched her fists. No. Mila may have been able to handle it, but Izzy damn well couldn’t. She needed time, and she needed help. There were ways to get both of those. Time first.

Izzy grabbed her bag and pulled out her strongest alphan scent patches. She compounded them herself; they were extremely overpowered, and she knew it. Normally she would cut off an eighth to use for a typical patient. Izzy counted. She had four. She grabbed a towel from the floor and wiped at Mila’s throat without permission. Mila just moaned at the contact, losing herself to the haze.

After a moment, Izzy grabbed Sara’s wrists and wiped at them as well. The ravenette frowned, but she didn’t question Izzy, merely shifted Mila so they were lying face-to-face on their sides to make themselves more accessible to the doctor. Izzy had never been happier to have brought an omega along on one of her trips.

She snatched a pair of scissors from her bag, cut a patch into fourths, and then pulled the backing off them and another full patch. The intact one she smoothed against Mila’s throat. It wrapped all the way around to cover both scent glands. She secured two of the fourths to Sara’s wrists, and the omega hissed in surprise.

Mila’s throat rumbled with a deep purr and she turned her face to nose at Sara’s wrist as the other woman stroked her hair.

Izzy put the towel to good use again and mopped up slick and blood from Mila’s inner thighs before affixing the last two fourths there. The girl mewled in pain from the stinging sensation of medication on open wounds. Izzy ignored the whining and settled the towel to soak up some of the slick flooding the bed before stepping back.

“All right. That’ll give me some time to think, at least. All the alphan hormones you’ve been taking will have rendered all of the normal treatments moot. You’re tolerant. Mila, can you hear me?”

The redhead let out a groan; the meds were already kicking in. Or perhaps just the scent was enough to cause an immediate reaction. Those patches really were excessively strong, but it would still take a little time for them to diffuse properly into the bloodstream.

“Has your heat…” Izzy corrected herself. “Are you a bit better settled?”

Mila sighed against Sara’s wrist. “Don’t wanna… Just need… M’okay…. A little.”

“Izzy-sensei…” Sara’s voice was a whine. “If she keeps up like this… she’ll trigger _my_ heat. I can’t keep up this mimicry!”

That was one reason that sugarhouses and spicehouses were routinely separated: Omegas in direct contact with those in full heat could develop pre-heat symptoms, and in extreme cases, even full heat out of cycle. Omega femmes in particular were more susceptible to each other. Izzy had traced it to the similarity of women’s menstrual cycles tending to match up when they spent enough time together. As a result of a lack of menstruation, Omega men had different fertility calendars than femmes; they were only fertile during heats rather than during heats and additional times of the months like femmes. And thus they could only be pulled into heat by another omega if they were already relatively close to their own heat. Use of alphan mimicry seemed to expedite the issue.  Izzy hadn’t figured out any reason for that yet. She also didn’t know why Alphas, on the other hand, didn’t tend to send other Alphas into ruts. She hated not knowing things.

“That’s what those patches on your wrist are for.” Izzy answered, gesturing toward the sticky white squares. “Let it go Sara, it’s all right. It’s thanks to you that she’s even still alive. You are a fantastic assistant!”

Sara visibly relaxed and smiled at Izzy with sleepy, heavy-lidded eyes, pleased with the praise. Then she nuzzled her cheek into Mila’s red hair. “Honestly, I wish you’d just let me touch you… If we get through this then maybe you could show me what you say is the real you…”

Mila shuddered with her nose pressed into Sara’s wrist and wrapped her arms tight around the smaller woman’s waist, pulling her down so they were pressed chest to chest and hip to hip. “Want you to touch me…” she said, mouthing at the skin beside a patch. “I just can’t now.” She opened her blue eyes and looked wantonly at the woman wrapped around her. “I’ve never… been this close to an omega before… You feel so good!”

“So do you, honey, so do you…” Sara hugged Mila tightly. Then she commented over to Izzy: “She’s cooling down a bit… Maybe your patches worked?”

 _Thank God._ Izzy hadn’t been sure if the patches would be strong enough to overcome Mila’s tolerance. She turned from the pair of cuddling women and grabbed her phone, smashing her finger into Seung Gil’s name on her speed dial list.

It rang several times before going to voicemail. _Dammit, Seung Gil, now is not the time!_ She didn’t care what was going on with the man. This was important!

Glowering at her phone as if were Seung Gil himself and not an innocent, inanimate object, she hit redial. Again it rang to voicemail. Izzy felt her anger shift to panic. Praying to all that was holy, she hit redial again. It rang.

“Lee Seung Gil,” the man’s voice snapped, thick with irritation.

“Seung Gil!” Izzy all but cried with relief.

Seung Gil’s voice changed drastically to one of concern. “Izzy? What’s wrong? Where are you? Are you all right?!”

Izzy took a deep breath. “Yes, I’m fine, but I have a patient who isn’t.” She heard a heavy sigh come through the phone.

“You’re okay. Good. Hold on.” There was the sound of shuffling and murmured voices. Seung Gil had company? Izzy brushed it off. It was none of her business anyway. Even if he never had company. _Whatever. Who cares?_

He returned to phone. “Tell me what you need," Seung Gil commanded.

Izzy snapped back to physician-mode. “I have a twenty-four year-old transdynamic alpha femme who hasn’t had a heat since her presentation due to Korean suppressant and alphan hormone abuse,” Izzy summarized.

“Well fuck me,” Seung Gil answered. She could imagine him carding his fingers through his hair. “Status?”

“She’s blown through her suppressants and is in full heat edging on dynamic shock. The only reason she’s isn’t in shock is that Sara, the omega sweet with me, is wrapped around her, and I have them both doped up with alphan patches.

“Get the girl an alpha, Izzy; what are you doing?!”         

Izzy bristled. “You think I haven’t tried that? Do you think I’d really be calling you if the solution were that simple?! She is refusing alphas and even betas. Says she’s rather die. She’s transdynamic, Seung Gil!”

“So let her go into dynamic shock so that she can be rendered incompetent to make such decisions,” he replied blithely.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Yeah, actually, I was just curious if you would go for it…”

Izzy resisted the urge to slap herself in the face since Seung Gil’s wasn’t in reach. “Have you got anything useful to say or are you just going to be weird and asshole-ish?”

Seung Gil paused. “I may have something for you… It’s a longshot but it’s likely your only option. Recently, I managed to extract specific genetic material from Yuri Plisetsky’s blood and use the Beta antibodies to make a sort of drug cocktail. It hasn’t been tested on people, but… my theory is that it’ll send your transalpha’s heat into remission by essentially convincing her body it’s a beta.”

Izzy almost dropped the phone when the intense urge to clap her hands together welled up. “That’s amazing, Seung Gil!” She replied. Then, she promptly remembered the issue. “But how the hell am I supposed to get it to her from Japan even if she’s willing to take it?”

“You have Plisetsky nearby, right? And he’s still a beta?”

She confirmed.

“Good. Get a fresh sample of his blood, a sample of hers, and check serum compatibility. Actually, don’t bother. If she has a reaction you can treat that just get your epinephrine ready.”

Izzy took the phone from her ear and stared at it. Then she pulled it back up. “Are you telling me that you’re going to explain how to make a DNA-altering drug over the phone when I only have the world’s smallest centrifuge, ice packs, and syringes?!”

Even Seung Gil could not be that good.

“Experimental serum, and damn straight I am. Call Plisetsky and get him on the way there. Now write this shit down, I’m sure you don’t have much time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have completely invented "dynamic shock" by sciencing really hard again. It's most similar to hypovolemic shock, but Mila's temperature would have dropped instead of risen.
> 
> Disclaimer: Do not take experimental pharmaceuticals in your apartment from some random doctor you just met. I’ve completed quite a lot of research in my profession on transgender hormones and medications; naturally, nothing like this crazy drug actually exists. I wish there was something of the like available though, so drug discovery people, get on it!
> 
> I do not, however, have first-hand knowledge of being a transgender person, and thus appreciate all comments and criticism from those who do: either to strengthen Mila’s persona or to let me know that she’s acting believably.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delving into Phichit and Seung Gil's relationship... Lemon warning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I am so sorry to have dropped off the face of the Earth. My life has gotten impressively hectic and just managing to stay afloat is taking all my time and energy. Unfortunately, eating and sleeping have to come before writing... And I still won't be able to post regularly. Here is a nice long chapter for those of you still waiting on me. Next chapter will return to the main plot line, but alas, I don't know when that might crawl its way out of my head and onto AO3.
> 
> Thank you so much to those of you that checked on me or left lovely comments or kudos. Your support is amazing, and I love you all. I read each and every comment and am so happy about it. You're really helping me get through the "thick" of the thick and thin right now. Again, thanks.
> 
> There's dancing in this chapter; credits below! Totally watch the first section of Lia Kim's choreography... That's what I was aiming for. I'm also adding the link to the full song. I own none of it and am worshipfully adapting this creativity for my own uses.  
> Dance inspiration by Lia Kim: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eGrvoHIobNc  
> Electric Bodega Trap remix of Yoncé (Beyoncé): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bbe1HpgMuAY

Seung Gil hung up the phone with what sounded to Phichit like a sonorous clunk before flopping back on the bed onto his stomach.

“What’s going on?” Phichit asked from his spot resting against the headboard.

“Have you ever met someone transdynamic?” Seung Gil responded, choosing to answer the question with one of his own.

Phichit quirked an eyebrow. He never did manage to guess what was going to come out of the other man’s mouth. “Of course. Transdyanmism isn’t all that rare in Thailand. Although only transomegas are accepted. Transalphas and transbetas are very much not out in the open. No one would allow them to switch to a higher status dynamic if they knew about it. Transomegas also work in sugarhouses for those who have that particular kink.”

Seung Gil’s head whipped up. “That’s news to me. Can transomegas sate Alpha ruts?”

The sweet beckoned his patron to come closer to him. “Mmm sometimes. Depends on the intensity of the rut, the type of supplemental hormones used by the transomega, and their mimicry abilities. And probably a billion other things. I wasn’t all that close with any of the other sweets at my sugarhouse, so I never really talked to anyone about it.”

Seung Gil crawled up the bed between Phichit’s legs and tugged on them until the sweet was flat on his back.

Phichit laughed, pushing back playfully, but eventually accepted his new position and arranged a pillow behind his head for comfort, settling back. Seung Gil shimmied up farther and crossed his arms over the Phichit’s chest, settling his chin on them as he eased his body weight onto the sweet.

“Not too heavy, am I?”

Phichit quirked an eyebrow and laced his fingers into Seung Gil’s dark hair. “Really? You have like 2 inches on me, and you’re lean as a rail.”

“I’m just checking… don’t want you to be uncomfortable…” He let out a sigh as Phichit’s quick fingers brushed a particularly sensitive spot behind his left ear. “And by the way, I’m loving that you dropped the act.”

Phichit’s fingers stilled. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Phichit; give it a rest. You like me.” He let his eyes fall closed. It was early into the night yet, but Phichit figured his skilled ministrations were dropping Seung Gil’s guard and making him sleepy.

“Of course, I like you. You’re my patron,” Phichit side-stepped.

“Yeah… sure. Just admit that you actually enjoy my company. After all, you ended up waving my fees tonight.”

“That’s because you did me such a favor getting Sara out of my way the other day! You deserved a reward, and I thought I might work as an excellent option.” Phichit’s words wound down from a defensive crowing to a suggestive purr. He had to keep himself under control.

Seung Gil chuckled into his crossed arms. “Minx…” he murmured, settling even more comfortably into his living pillow. Then he tipped his chin up.

“A reward, huh?” His soft voice retorted. “Do tell.” His eyes fluttered open to see Phichit’s eyes boring back into him. He seemed to have gotten over his anxiety around the sweet, and that didn’t please Phichit one bit. Nope, this was an excellent plan. He needed Seung Gil to fall apart in front of him some more. To be honest, he kinda got off on it, weirdly enough. Well, he never really had been good at being Omega… Acting like one, sure, Phichit had that down pat… But actually being stereotypically Omega? Nope.

Phichit quirked an eyebrow. “I’d show you, but you happen to be on top of me preventing that.” He was free to wave his arms around, but every other part of him was pinned neatly under Seung Gil as if the man had calculated the exact angles required to render him immobile. Hell, the brilliant bastard had probably done the math subconsciously.

“You can show me later,” Seung Gil purred. “I want you to tell me first.” His fingers played with the folds in Phichit’s red silk shirt. “Create a little bit of anticipation for me.” Seung Gil was being a shit, and by his smirk, he knew it. He’d been acting rather cocky all day since Phichit had texted him in the morning and invited him back to Yutopia. They’d spent the day together, having breakfast in some little café and wandering around shops. Learning each other. Phichit honestly wasn’t sure what they were doing, but he did enjoy the beta’s company.

Phichit’s face scrunched up into what he hoped was an adorably disgruntled expression. “Of course you’d make me work…” His hands dipped into the collar of Seung Gil’s black button-up and danced across the nape of his neck. The soft scent of peaches and cream rose up, and Seung Gil tilted his face into Phichit’s wrist to enjoy it. For all that the beta reveled in his scent, Phichit knew Seung Gil couldn’t read the emotions and intentions hidden inside the pleasant aroma. He found himself feeling strangely free because of that.

Phichit chuckled with a slow smile. “If I must, Be—…” He snapped his jaw shut to cut himself off. It was so hard to break the habit of calling patrons by their dynamics, but Phichit was putting in top-notch effort! The damn beta better appreciate that…

“If I must.” Phichit’s voice dropped a few notes, ringing out in a deeper chord than the speaking voice with which Seung Gil had likely become familiar. “There’s something I haven’t done before, and I’m still kinda nervous about it. I want you to be involved.”

Seung Gil waited, eyes slitted, but pupils wide. His eyebrows raised encouragingly.

“The HT sweets have to do performances on that stage out there,” Phichit began to explain. “Usually a couple of different ones. Yuu-kun was best known for his pole dancing…”

“And you?” Seung Gil asked.

“I danced, too… Not pole dance, though… Anyway. I’m rolling out a new show tonight, and I want you there…”

A slow smile unfolded on the Seung Gil’s face, and he raised his head up slightly to draw his arms out from under it and to Phichit’s sides. Taking a firm grip of the sweet’s ribs, he pushed a bit lower on his elbows and nuzzled his face into the soft silk above firm abdominal muscles.

A laugh tore itself from Phichit’s throat when fingers tickled at his ribs and teeth nipped at his tummy through his shirt. He grabbed hold of Seung Gil’s hair and tugged his head up; the beta let it happen, smirking.

“I’d love to be involved,” Seung Gil replied soberly, for all the world as if he hadn’t just bene teasing the crap out of Phichit.  He wasn’t exactly reticent with physical affection. In fact, throughout the day he hadn’t really seemed able to stop touching Phichit. The omega had watched the slow escalation with entertained eyes and wondered if Seung Gil even knew what he was doing… progressing from brushes of hands to guiding Phichit by the small of his back all the way up to covering the back of Phichit’s neck with his hand. Seung Gil was either naturally dominant or beautifully trained. Somehow, Phichit didn’t think the researcher would be willing to put in the time to learn the tactics.

The sweet shook his head in wonderment. Ridiculous. The man was simply ridiculous. It was a huge change of pace from what Phichit had seen back in Thailand… his mother only touching his father as a reward and withholding it otherwise. Omegas needed to be touched; everyone knew that, so it was just another way Keerati had controlled every aspect of her husband’s life.

Phichit shrugged off the memory and grabbed his phone from the nightstand, swiping to the lock screen to see the time.

“Oh shit, it’s already half-past. I need to go get ready; come on!”

He pushed at Seung Gil’s shoulders with urgency. He was going to be in so much trouble for being late! Seung Gil smiled at him in amusement, making a show of being paralyzed and unable to get off of Phichit, forcing the sweet to wriggle out from underneath him.

Phichit grabbed hold of Seung Gil and dragged his finally willing patron out into the hall and through the red door to the club. He led him by the hand to the curtains that hid the entrance to the stage and dressing room.

“Just wait around here by the bar,” he said. “I have to go get ready, and then I’ll go on, so make sure you’re here!” If Seung Gil wasn’t around when the curtains opened, Phichit was going to go into an apoplectic fit. He was already planning it. It might even be better than his dance number.

The omega turned to the petite bartender. “Captain,” he said. “This guy. You’ll watch after him for me?”

The barman tsked. “You gonna spill shit on my bartop again?” He didn’t look up from washing a glass.

“I will not.”

“If you do, I’m making you lick it off this time before I bleach the shit out of it.” Several people nearby looked like they hoped that might actually happen.

Phichit cringed internally but kept his face blank. Levi really would make him do it, too. “Understood.”

“I’ll keep him for you then. You go on in 20 minutes, get out of here.” The bartender shooed him away with a drying cloth.

Phichit noticed Seung Gil was watching the back and forth between the omegas with an expression of confused amusement, but as he scurried off toward the dressing room, he saw Captain slam both hands down on the bar and Seung Gil jump in response. Speaking of someone who didn’t behave as an omega… Phichit shook his head ruefully as he maneuvered between the dancing masses and made his way past the heavy curtain and through the subtle black dressing room door hidden behind it.

He found Guang Hong waiting for him: his face accessorized with plump, pursed lips and narrowed eyes.  “Where have you been?! I have like… 18 minutes to get you up to Highest Tier potential!”

And that’s exactly what this was. An audition for Highest Tier of Yutopia Sugarhouse. Each of the HT sweets that were interested in the position and had the house mistress’ blessing were to perform a new show this week. The show that would make them infamous. Something memorable that would drive patrons to bring their friends to see it. Something like Eros’ pole dancing.

“Sorry Guang-chan… my patron had a really important phone call that I couldn’t interrupt…” Phichit wrung his hands.

“You should have left him on it and come, then. Get over here!”

Phichit scrambled into the chair in front of the mirrored vanity, and the other omega immediately went to work on his hair with a brush. The sharp little strokes weren’t exactly comfortable, but Phichit figured he kind of deserved it for putting Guang Hong in a bind for time.

“So you must really like this patron, huh? Last I heard you were going to use one of the spices as your partner for your performance.” Guang Hong finished with the brush and set it aside. He opened up a long, black box covered in stickers, and Phichit watched enviously as he sorted through his impressive collection of paints and powders. Guang was a brilliant make-up artist, and he regularly did the sweets’ hair and make-up before they went on stage. And because of his helpfulness, Yuko-chan let him charge all his expenses to the house.  Lucky bastard.

“I guess…” Phichit answered as the smaller omega mixed a paste to the color of Phichit’s skin and began painting it sparingly across his face and neck.

“You have such nice skin, Phichy,” Guang Hong complimented. “You hardly need anything at all.” He switched to powder to set the foundation and then gathered up supplies for what they both thought was the fun part.

“Red and gold, right?”

Phichit grinned. Yuko-chan had had the outfit especially made for him by a tailor for just this one performance, and he loved it.

Guang Hong grinned back and pulled the colors from his magic box decorated in rainbows and unicorns. He considered momentarily before asking Phichit to close his eyes and painting expertly for a few moments. The Thai omega sat in his self-enforced darkness, giddiness rising up in him. Guang Hong always made the omegas look amazing on the stage. Phichit was lucky the little Chinese man had no interest in the responsibilities and restrictions required of the Highest Tier, because he definitely would have given Phichit a run for his money.

The soft brushes pulled across his skin gently, teasing in right next to his eye lashes and across his cheek bones. Phichit opened his mouth and puckered his lips when requested, giggling softly as Guang Hong painted color into the sensitive area. Then the other omega was smoothing something into Phichit’s hair, pulling it into spiky pieces.

Finally, after what well could have been hours, Guang Hong said: “All right! Look at my masterpiece!” His voice ached with pride.

Phichit blinked his eyes open a couple of times, getting used to the weight of his decorated eyelids and… when had Guang put false lashes on him?!

He looked stunning, if he did say so himself. His piecey hair was different than the soft style he usually kept. It wasn’t spiked up, just pieced out with some kind of sculpting pomade to it give it texture and definition. Phichit shook his head back and forth, and yes, it still moved nicely. That was important; he would still be able to run his fingers through it without destroying the look.

Guang had outfitted his face with contouring cream that raised his cheek bones without thinning out his face. He was right. Phichit was a masterpiece. Eyes framed in black with slight wings, red and gold blended exactingly into his lids with brushes of white and peach dancing below them and across his cheeks.

“Beautifully androgynous, don’t you think?” Guang Hong asked with unconcealed glee, leaning around Phichit to also look into the mirror.

Phichit swallowed. “You did this in 15 minutes…” And he’d done it just because Phichit had asked. For free. Without even the promise of a returned favor. Yutopia was so very different from La Belle.

Guang Hong brushed off the compliment. “I do my best work under pressure. And it helps to start with a beautiful canvas…” His voice was teasing, friendly, pleased with himself.

“Now! Let’s get you into your outfit and onto that stage. You’ve got to show them exactly who should be our Highest Tier, and I really want you to blow Michele out of the water; he’s been pissing me off lately.”

“Ah, the truth comes out!” Phichit snickered, standing and following his friend to the rack of clothes. “Has he been getting a bit too close to Leo again?”

“Right in one, Phichy…” Guang replied. He checked to make sure his hands were clean before unzipping Phichit’s costume and drawing it off of its hanger.

“He never learns…” Phichit let the smaller omega help him dress. Just after the tiny zipper was drawn up the back, a voice called for him, and the lights blinked.

“Thank you, Guang-chan…” Phichit said reverently.

“You’re very welcome…Oh and one more thing” Guang Hong gave a mischievous smile before turning around and grabbing something else off a hanger. He held it up for Phichit to see: two pairs of bright, heavily adorned red and gold gloves.

“You didn’t….” Phichit exclaimed. He’d just been joking about how he should have back–up dancers… but they shouldn’t be able to show him up or distract the audience from his “wondrous perfection.” 

Guang Hong grinned. “Leo promised to do it with me. I’ve had him training the whole last week.” He called out the aforementioned alpha spice’s name, and a moment later, Leo emerged through the dressing room door.

“We ready? Oh you look amazing, Phichit. Well done Guang!” He walked over and mussed the mousy brown hair of the make-up artist. Guang Hong preened under his touch. Then they pulled their own clothes from hangers and dressed quickly.

Phichit shook his head in rueful bemusement. He would never understand those two or how they managed their relationship within the house walls.

“I’d hug you both,” Phichit said, “But I don’t want to get you covered in glitter.” He gestured to his nearly glowing attire.

Guang Hong pulled on his gloves. “I appreciate the sentiment, but that would ruin everything. You’re supposed to be the center of attention, after all. Now, get up there, and show everyone what you’ve got!”

* * *

 

The lights blinked three times. Seung Gil glanced up from the Manhattan he’d been nursing since the bartender placed it in front of him nearly twenty minutes earlier. He hadn’t ordered it. He didn’t even like it, but the hell was he going to say no to the scary black-eyed omega that looked like he might be able to suck out a person’s soul with his gaze.

“That’s your cue, brat,” Captain said, taking the glass out of his hands and wiping down the bartop. Then he bowed down, disappearing from view before popping up again and thrusting a brightly colored object at Seung Gil. “Here, put this on quickly.”

“What?” Seung Gil’s lips twisted in confusion. His sight was suddenly obscured as the lights blacked out again; this time they stayed that way. At the same time, the DJ ground his record to a scratchy halt. In the sudden blackened silence, Seung Gil twisted what felt like a long piece of silk in his hands. He craned his neck to look around and ask Captain what was going on, when the telltale brightness of a spotlight sprung into view on the curtains hiding the stage.

“Oh shit… Phic—his performance really is right now?!”

Captain grimaced in the low light. “And he said you were smart…Just put on the damn tie. Hurry it up.”

Seung Gil glanced down into his hands, and indeed, he was holding a sleek red and gold necktie. Without another thought, he popped the collar on his black button up and tied an unpracticed half-Windsor as the curtains drew back. He didn’t think he had put on a tie since he finished his fellowship...

Music blossomed, a heady beat rising up from the speakers, as the spotlight found its way onto a man sitting on the back of a wooden chair. He was balanced there, his legs draped perfectly down around the seat to keep it balanced on two of its legs. He was motionless until the song reached a held note, and then he let the chair slam down to the ground, sliding smoothly onto the abused furniture.

Seung Gil swallowed. Phichit looked… he’d done something different with his hair, and it was beautifully messy. His attire was very different from the normal yukata or formal wear Seung Gil had seen him in so far. A deep V-cut in the top bared him to his solar plexus and shreds in the pants and sleeves let the audience get a solid taste of what was underneath. That beautiful caramel skin, casually hidden by fluttering red fabric with golden accents, a sash tied around his waist.

Seung Gil paused and glanced down at the tie he was now sporting. It was the exact same color as Phichit’s costume. “Oh fucking hell…”

 _“I want you to be involved,”_ he’d said.

Phichit rose from the chair and kicked it aside, causing it to tumble loudly to the ground and skitter out of his way. He looked every bit as confident and alluring as a tom cat who knew he owned territory for miles around.

 _“Let me hear you say “Hey Miss Carter…””_ the speakers started.

The sweetworkers around the room roared back: “Hey Miss Carter!”

The Electric Bodega remixed music blasted from the speakers and Phichit fell into motion. Sharp movements followed the music, pulsing with the beat. Phichit looked directly at Seung Gil and with a subtle lick of his lips, pointed his finger in the shape of a gun and fired twice into the audience.

_“Bang… Bang”_

Seung Gil could practically feel his pupils blow out. _Holy shit…_

Phichit followed up the claim by grabbing his crotch lewdly, pulsing to the beat. He practically writhed on the stage, isolating different parts of his body before dropping his head to the floor to give full display of his slim hips. Two brightly glittering, disembodied pairs of hands flashed around Phichit, accenting his frame and laying themselves across him in bold, sensuous patterns in accordance to the music.

_“Every boy in here with me got that smoke…”_

Phichit dropped to his knees and arched back into a backbend. He was stupidly flexible.

_“Every girl in here gotta look me up and down…All on Instagram, cake by the pound.”_

He shifted to strategically rock his hips above the floor before basically pulling himself to his feet with his own crotch, arching up from the ground. His mouth was open, and he almost seemed like he was panting in exertion. But Seung Gil knew it wasn’t the strain from exercise… it was like the gasping that came after forgetting to breathe from a hot make-out session. It was the look of someone who had just been fucked senseless and had fucking loved it. Seung Gil even knew Phichit was purposely creating the image as an allure… and it was still working on him!

_“Circulate the image every time I come around…”_

If Seung Gil squinted, he could make out the forms of the dancers dressed all in black save the gloves, but it was just so much easier to concentrate on Phichit and the flashing hands. The hands mimicked Phichit’s movements crisply and cleanly as he moved in fast, artful, sensual motions, his ass shaking.

_“Ya man ain’t never seen a booty like this. And why you think ya keep my name rolling off your tongue?”_

The hands stamped themselves over his body, ghosting over his ass, and as they covered a limb, they ripped at the thin fabric there as they pulled away, baring yet more of the creamy skin. Seung Gil’s mouth watered, and he dearly wished it was his hands inside those gloves.

Phichit’s own hands cascaded down his body as he dropped his head back and shifted with the beat. His every movement was erotic, skillfully choreographed. Seung Gil forced himself to blink as he felt his eyes drying up, desperate not to miss a single second.

_“Yoncé all on his mouth like liquor… Like like liquor… Like like like liquor…. Gimme some!_

Suddenly, the music cut to dead silence. One beat; two, and the audience burst into raucous applause. Phichit didn’t bow. He didn’t even acknowledge the crowd. He looked to Seung Gil, and a coy smile crossed his face.

_Oh no…_

He beckoned Seung Gil up to the stage, holding out a hand palm up and curling in one finger at a time in a wave, pinky first, and lastly the index pulling in repeatedly. The tattered red fabric on his arm swayed with the motion.

_Oh shit!_

A spotlight erupted on Seung Gil, and now everyone was looking at him. Everyone in the whole club! It was terrifying. His legs felt frozen. They were screaming at him! Excitement thrummed through the room. The show wasn’t over, and they all knew it.

A shove came at his shoulder, and Seung Gil took an automatic, steadying step forward to avoid falling on his face.

“Get going. Otherwise, you’ll ruin his show.”

When Seung Gil looked back, tearing his eyes from Phichit, Captain was unnecessarily wiping down the bartop yet again. The petite man was right… Phichit was waiting on him; what was he going to do? Bolt? As appealing as the idea sounded, Seung Gil just couldn’t do that. Steeling himself, he walked briskly to the stage as a roar of cheers rose up again from the audience.

A new song started, and Seung Gil vaguely noticed the background hand dancers disappear from the stage before he made his way up onto it.

“Get the chair,” Phichit murmured when Seung Gil came within earshot. Seung Gil raised an eyebrow, but he walked past without pausing and collected the abused piece of furniture from the other side of the stage. He stooped to pick it up; Phichit’s kick had actually sent it onto the far set of stairs. 

Attempting to keep a placid, stoic expression on his face (to hide the bone-deep terror threatening to overwhelm him), Seung Gil carried the chair back and placed it properly on its feet facing Phichit and away from the audience. This earned him an even broader smile.

“You ready?” Phichit asked. He didn’t wait for a response, which was good, because Seung Gil didn’t think there was enough moisture in his mouth to produce actual, intelligible words. A hand grasped his tie, tugged him forward, and pushed him back into the chair. Seung Gil stumbled and just managed to keep the chair from tipping backwards. Distracted though he was, no one could miss the glittery-handed back-up dancers’ return to the stage while carrying a monstrous mirror. The placed it in the middle of the stage and angled it a bit. Then they darted to opposite sides and disappeared again.

Phichit leaned in close to Seung Gil and twisted his chair. It was obviously set to the same angle to which the mirror was tilted. The crowd screamed and clapped, happy to see multiple views of the performance. Voyeurs, all of them…

Phichit left his face right next to Seung Gil’s. He brushed their noses together. “Relax… set up is all finished. Just enjoy the show like everyone else now.”

The song rose up again, the same pulsing beat, and Phichit returned to his dance. This time, however, it wasn’t anonymous hands that covered his body. He grabbed hold of Seung Gil’s hands and placed them on his shoulders. Phichit dropped to the floor and wormed his way onto Seung Gil’s lap, straddling one leg and grinding with the music.

_“Boy this is all for you, just walk my way…”_

He pressed his thigh against the bulge straining in Seung Gil’s pants and Seung Gil struggled to hold in a groan. His view in the mirror was priceless: Phichit gyrating on his lap, and the physical sensation was death-by-frustration. He could feel Phichit’s own erection rubbing against his thigh, and all he wanted to do was tear off the remaining fluttery fabric and see it.

Phichit rose up and pivoted, spinning his back to Seung Gil dropping his ass down onto the neglected thigh. He leaned back and settled his head on Seung Gil’s shoulder, guiding his patron’s hands down the slit in his shirt.

_“I do this all for you baby, just take aim…”_

Seung Gil forgot he was on stage. He forgot about the roaring, cat-calling crowd and the fact that normally he would have had to pay to be there. He forgot about Izzy and her clinic. He even forgot about his own research. For the first time in a very, very long time, Seung Gil lived in the moment. He closed his eyes and dropped his head down to inhale deeply against Phichit’s throat, eliciting a pleased warble barely audible below the bass.

Phichit drew a leg up and settled on the outside of Seung Gil’s leg to straddle his lap. Then he leaned forward and braced himself on Seung Gil’s knees to sit more comfortably… Then again, “sitting” wasn’t really the word Seung Gil would use to best describe the man split open across him.

_“Drop the bass mane, the bass get lower…”  
“Radio say "speed it up", I just go slower…”_

Seung Gil opened his eyes to see mirror-Phichit’s hands hit the floor as he rocked his hips to the beat directly against his patron’s cock, hips thrusting in the air. Seung Gil’s hands were drawn to that ass as if by magnets, massaging and trailing down muscular thighs.

The crowd screamed as Phichit shimmied forward dropped down between Seung Gil’s feet. He grasped hold of the knees in front of him again and used them to leverage himself to his feet. He strode around the chair, caressing Seung Gil’s chest and shoulders as he went, smirking all the while. This fingers alternatingly mussed and tugged at the dark hair.

Seung Gil tried to follow the man circling him, but a particularly forceful tug encouraged him to drop his head back on the chair and close his eyes. He could hear himself panting.

_“Yoncé all on his mouth like liquor… Like like liquor… Like like like liquor….”_

He felt a soft kiss press against his lips, and his hair was released before Phichit returned to his lap, facing him and pushing in close. Automatically, Seung Gil raised his arms to tighten them around Phichit’s back, sighing at the return of full contact.

The song ended faded out, and Phichit stared at the roaring crowd over Seung Gil’s shoulder as the curtains fell closed. Then, he leaned in and murmured into Seung Gil’s ear: “So, how about I give you that reward now?”

“This wasn’t the reward?!” Seung Gil choked out. He clenched his hands around Phichit’s hips as the omega took the opportunity to grind down onto him one last time. He felt a smile press into the sensitive skin behind his ear.

“Nope…” Phichit let the p sound of the word pop softly, his lips flicking lightly against Seung Gil.

He backed away, sliding off of Seung Gil’s lap and grabbing hold of the tie as he did so. “You, Sir, are coming with me.” The words brooked no argument. As if anyone in their right mind would argue. Phichit gave a little tug and Seung Gil rose up from the chair and followed him off the side of the stage, down the stairs, through a dressing room, and out onto the club dance floor.  They surreptitiously scurried along the edge of the floor, trying not to attract attention.

But considering it was Phichit... Seung Gil wasn’t surprised when they failed. A hand grabbed the sweet’s wrist gently.

“Peach! That was amazing! Hey, do you have a patron for tonight? I know I should go ask your house mistress, but considering I’ve got you right here…” The man with sunny blonde hair and blue eyes was tall, towering over both Seung Gil and Phichit. He had the disposition of an alpha that tended to get what he wanted. Seung Gil’s lip’s attempted to twist into a scowl; he resolutely kept them flat.

Phichit stared at the alpha. He looked from the presumptuous blue eyes to his own hold on Seung Gil’s tie and back again as if trying to point out the obvious. The man waited patiently.

Finally, Phichit gave in and announced: “Ah, I’m afraid I’m already booked for the evening, Mr. Smith… As you can see…”

Mr. Smith chuckled. He looked at Seung Gil and raised a single eyebrow, seeming to finally acknowledge his existence. “Oh… I thought he was just a prop for your show, and you were finishing it up like this.”

“No,” Seung Gil found himself saying, in abject horror. What happened to keeping his mouth shut? “He’s with me tonight.”

Phichit smiled sunnily, almost purring.

“Right… Another time then…” The man frowned but dropped Phichit’s wrist.

Phichit murmured, likely something uncalled for, under his breath. Seung Gil was watching the sweet’s façade collapse all around him, and he wasn’t sure if he should mention it. He supposed the sooner they got away from people, the less it would matter. They bolted for the private rooms, forgoing any form of subtlety.

Room 3 was just as they left it: lights on, pillows askew, and wonderfully vacant.

Phichit pushed Seung Gil gently until he collapsed onto the bed with his knees bent over the side, and the omega let himself be drawn down by his own grasp on Seung Gil’s tie.

“First, tell me how amazing I was,” he insisted, perching himself on his knees next to his patron.

Seung Gil chuckled softly and raised a hand to push back some of Phichit’s hair from where it had become sticky with sweat. “I don’t think amazing cuts it. I don’t think there’s a word in the English, Korean, or Japanese languages that can describe how impressed I am right now. I need to learn more languages.”

Phichit’s smile was a ray of pure sunshine shot directly into Seung Gil’s heart. It took actually effort not to clutch his chest as an ache bloomed there. Christ, was he stupidly smitten. A ray of sunshine? Seriously?!

“Right?! You didn’t mind, right? Me not telling you exactly what it was? I wanted you to be surprised,” the sweet said in a rush. He pushed his face into Seung Gil’s hand, turning it so that there was no choice but for Seung Gil to caress his cheek. He did so willingly, thinking Phichit had a likeness to some kind a pretty, affectionate parrot. He suddenly found he had an increased predilection for birds…

Seung Gil realized he hadn’t answered the question yet and hastened to quash Phichit’s concerns. “No. I can definitely say that I didn’t mind. I was petrified for a few moments, but then I entirely forgot there were even other people there. It was just you.”

“Oh good!” Phichit fell forward, placing a hand on either side of Seung Gil’s chest and leaning down close. He hovered above him for a moment, eyes searching Seung Gil’s and lips curving into a mischievous little smile. He must have found that something he was looking for, because he turned his head and slid his cheek across Seung Gil’s, nuzzling back and forth.

Seung Gil’s arms automatically came up around the sweet’s back, instinctively trying to press closer. He could feel hot breath puffing against his ear and neck as Phichit continued the slow drag of their faces together. It was almost uncomfortably intimate, and Seung Gil didn’t understand why. He ducked his head, pressing his nose into the delicious scent glands along Phichit’s throat, unable to stop himself from mouthing at it.

Phichit let out a whine. “You know… now might be an excellent moment to kiss me, Gil.”

The suggestion felt like a heavy weight of the obvious dropping into his chest… shortly followed by the nickname registering. It flickered in his mind a moment, considering, and then with a flash, Seung Gil decided he fucking loved it. He tightened his arms suddenly and crushed Phichit against his chest, raising a hand up and tilting Phichit’s chin to a more accessible angle before whole-heartedly taking the recommendation.

The first press of lips didn’t feel like he expected it to: sweet and careful, tentative and exploring. Instead, their mouths met open, Phichit immediately licking into him, hot, wet, frenzied. He maneuvered himself to align his body with his patron’s, twisting to press their hips together, groaning into Seung Gil’s mouth. Most of Seung Gil’s make-out experiences tended to deepen as they progressed. Not this one. This one started full force, like Phichit didn’t feel the need to hold back and then escalate. The man was going to take what he wanted when he wanted it, and that moment seemed to be now if Seung Gil agreed. And Oh, did he agree.

_Oh my fucking god…_

Tongues and teeth crashed together. Phichit was near eating him alive, and Seung Gil wasn’t so sure he’d ever been more turned on his life. He pressed his hips up while sliding his hands down to cup Phichit’s ass and press down, creating more friction. The sounds he was rewarded with were delicious, encouraging to say the least. The sweet was all but vibrating already.

Phichit broke the kiss, and Seung Gil let out a hum of displeasure as he sat up, his knees splayed on either side of his patron’s hips. “Get this off me,” Phichit demanded. His voice was rough, already worked up, and his pupils had blown full force, silver already overcoming the brown of his irises. He twisted around, swiveling his hips to reorient his body, drawing Seung Gil’s attention to the zipper at his neck.

Seung Gil put his abdominal muscles to work, curling up and around the sweet and pressing his chest flush against Phichit’s back. He wrapped his arms around the other man’s chest, squeezing. Phichit let out a whimper.

“Off… all of this. Take it all off!” Phichit’s words were desperate, needy, pleading, and Seung Gil took pity. And if perhaps he wanted the sensation of bare skin on skin too, well… That was neither here nor there.

He leaned back just enough to slide his arm between them and catch the zipper pull, dragging it slowly down Phichit’s back and following it with his lips as far as he could. When it came undone, Phichit ripped it off of himself and threw it full force across the room where it smacked against the door before sliding to a puddle on the ground.

He stood and spun around again, completely nude except the gold sash that hadn’t been attached to his costume. It hung on his hips and lent just the most annoying amount of obscurity to Phichit’s form. He loosened Seung Gil’s tie with practiced ease and tossed it over his shoulder. Then he worked at the buttons of the black shirt, biting his lip with impatience and giving a sigh of relief when it finally fell open.

Seung Gil chuckled as he was manhandled into getting his dress shirt off, forcing him to recline back onto his elbows one at a time.

“Seriously Gil, how many layers do you need?!” Phichit began peeling off Seung Gil’s black v-neck undershirt.

“What, it’s not like unwrapping a present? I would have thought you’d enjoy it.”

“Unwrapping presents is fun,” Phichit growled back, “but you’re like that guy that puts a box in a bag in a box and covers the thing with duct tape just to be obnoxious.” The shirt joined its comrades in the pile by the door.

Seung Gil laughed as Phichit slid down his body like a snake, grabbing his belt buckle and ripping it to the side.

“Listen, I’m usually way more into the whole foreplay thing because it’s essentially my job to be good at this shit, but I just really want you. Like now.” Phichit slid the belt expertly from its home while he one-handedly undid the button and zipper of Seung Gil’s pants.

Seung Gil watched him work, eyes wide, nerves starting to get a bit frayed. Worry was beginning to well in him, but he physically swallowed it down. “Not a problem, you gave me more than enough foreplay on that stage. He lifted his hips to assist with the removal of his pants. Apparently, Phichit had undressing his patrons down to an art form, because Seung Gil was pretty sure it took him five times as long to take off his own clothes.

“Good. Awesome. Perfect.” Phichit stood on his knees and worked Seung Gil’s black boxers off. He licked his lips when what he wanted sprang from its confined space. Seung Gil followed that tongue with his eyes and muffled a groan at the release in pressure. Phichit looked hungry as he reached under the mattress for and retrieved a condom. He held it out to Seung Gil, who took it automatically.

“Wanna prep me or do you want to watch me do it?” Phichit asked, his eyes twinkling.

Seung Gil froze. Right so, apparently he was going to fess up.

“Listen, Phichit, before you… I’ve never done this before.” Seung Gil broke eye contact and stared at his knees.

“Excuse me?” Phichit managed to get back into his line of sight anyway, having slithered to the floor to tug off Seung Gil’s shoes and socks and slip his boxers from his ankles. “You’re not a virgin; we talked about ex-lovers earlier…”

“I mean I’ve never topped before… I’ve been with men, but…” This was highly embarrassing to Seung Gil for a reason he currently didn’t understand. He made a mental note to explore that issue later. Why should he be embarrassed? He’d never been with an omega before… He was Beta-O after all, so he tended to catch the interest of Alphas and Betas. And once he had fallen down the metaphorical rabbit hole, he never really bothered to press for the other option.

“Really?” Phichit flung the final piece of clothing behind him and crawled back onto Seung Gil, hovering over him. Seung Gil breathed a sigh of relief… at least Phichit seemed to still be interested in continuing. “I wouldn’t have thought that. I’m all right with being your first, if you like, but if you’re not in the mood or you think it’ll be too stressful right now…”

A sudden hungry look crossed the Phichit’s face. “This is your reward, after all. I could top for you. Is that something you’d enjoy?”

Seung Gil watched him, trying to decipher all the interesting emotions flickering across his face. “You… you’ve done this?”

“Omega heats,” Phichit replied succinctly, raising one finger in the air and easily holding himself up with one arm. “I’m no Yuu-kun, but my mimicry is pretty damn good, thank you very much.”

That was another thing that Seung Gil wanted to ask all about… why omegas sometimes chose to keep to their own dynamic during heats instead of seeking out an alpha or a beta.

 Phichit was snapping his fingers in front of Seung Gil’s face. “You went back into researcher mode right there, didn’t you?”

“Sorry… But is topping something that feels good for you? Even as an omega, I mean.”

Phichit brushed the apology aside and smirked. “I’m not in heat right now… I don’t feel the need to bred like a bitch, but thanks asking.” He was gleeful in his words. “So like I said…This is your reward… I’ll give you anything you want.”

Seung Gil looked into Phichit’s eyes, finding the want there… the need… Phichit looked he wanted to fuck Seung Gil through the bed and down into the wood floor. If there was anything else that could have made the idea more desirable to Seung Gil himself, he didn’t know what that could be.

“I want you to fuck me,” He enunciated carefully.

Phichit pounced.

He dropped onto Seung Gil and pressed the lengths of their bodies together, angling his hips to align their cocks. The pull of skin on skin was rough and harsh, and Seung Gil couldn’t decide if he wanted the slickness of lubricant to ease it or if he liked the friction as is. Phichit made the decision for him, tearing his lips away from where they had been set to feast on Seung Gil’s throat. He ripped open the nightstand drawer and drew out a bottle.

“Move back on the bed, will you?” He directed as he flicked open the lid and drizzled an ample amount into the palm of hand. His ravenous, silver gaze never left Seung Gil.

Seung Gil did as he was told, pulling himself up completely onto the bed so his legs didn’t dangle any longer.

“I’m sorry, I just really don’t want to wait, is that all right?”

In answer, Seung Gil bent his knees and spread them wide, settling the soles of his feet on the bed.

“Now that’s an invitation if I’ve ever see one…” Phichit acknowledged with an appreciative purr in his voice. He slid down onto his stomach and braced himself on his elbows. With no further warning, he dropped his head to Seung Gil’s stomach and began to tongue sloppily along the trail of sharp, dark hair to his groin.

Seung Gil let out a groan. His cock was pressed up against Phichit’s throat as the sweet worked his ministrations, and it was an awful tease. He tangled his fingers into the messy hair hovering above him and failed to control a thrust from his hips.

Phichit chuckled but took pity.

Heat engulfed Seung Gil, and the oxytocin receptors in his brain went haywire. He swore he could feel the rush of dopamine barrel into him like a god damn freight train.

“Fuuuuck!”

Phichit’s mouth was amazing. More than amazing. Wet and hot and tight and Christ how did he even do that?! Teeth grazed the head of his cock, before Phichit mouthed down the side of the shaft and pulled one of Seung Gil’s balls into his mouth, sucking.

The distraction had been so complete that Seung Gil had hardly even noticed the fingers circling his entrance. He did, however, notice when one slipped inside. He gave little gasp, shrinking back slightly. Not that there was anywhere to go…

Phichit let his sack fall from his lips and looked up, chuckling. “Been awhile, love?”

“My last regular lover was a woman, remember?” Seung Gil explained. He made every effort to cement the image of Phichit over his cock into his mind forever, and at the same time, he tried to burn the image of Izzy out of it.

Phichit nodded, that same mischievous smile adorning his lips. He wrapped those pretty lips back around Seung Gil’s cock and slid them all the way down to the base. Seung Gil let out a strangled cry as throat muscles began rhythmically milking him. At the same time, the slick finger turned lazy circles just inside his entrance, massaging the tight muscles, never pushing farther.

After only a few moments, Seung Gil realized he _wanted_ it deeper. He pushed his hips down, trying to get more inside him. The ring of muscle eased open enough for the finger slide in to the second knuckle. Phichit continued the slow, stretching circles, pulling back to bob his head up and down to the same slow, silent cadence that guided his hand. He added another finger, letting only the tips massage just inside.

Seung Gil forced his hands to unclench and release Phichit’s hair, but they remained, stubbornly, in a claw-like position grasping at the air. Despite the assault on his senses, Seung Gil noted that Phichit’s method of opening him up was interesting. His previous partners had all chosen to work one finger in entirely before adding a second. Phichit’s style of opening from the outside in was different. It was easier on Seung Gil, but it would probably take longer, he mused.

Phichit had returned to one finger, pushing it in to the second knuckle. The removal of the first finger felt like a loss to Seung Gil, and he wiggled his hips, groaning again.

Phichit replaced the finger, massaging in a gentle, pulsing, circular rhythm until both fingers were in to the second knuckle. He left them there for a moment, pulling off Seung Gil’s cock with a pop.

“Does this feel good?” He asked, eyes glittering.

Seung Gil nodded feverishly. Phichit glanced up and noticed the hands hanging in the air above him and let out a laugh. He reached up with his free hand and pulled them down onto his shoulders as he pushed himself to his knees.

“Can you turn on your side, Gil? And curl up a bit. Perfect!” Phichit slid up to the right of Seung Gil until he was level with his collar bone, two fingers still buried shallowly in Seung Gil’s ass. He scissored their legs together and pushed his knee up so he still had easy access. Then he dropped his free hand to their two painfully hard cocks and stroked them together.

“That… oh…” Seung Gil reached for the lube and popped it open, shakily handing it to Phichit who dribbled some messily over their cocks and added some to the hand that was opening up Seung Gil before handing it back. He was moving his fingers in a discernable pattern. Right, left, up, down, circle, and stretch. Each time, he pushed them in an infinitesimal amount farther. It was maddening.

“You’re sucking me in now…” Phichit breathed against Seung Gil’s chest, his fingers finally buried to the hilt. “But omegas have said I’m a little thick, so….”  He pulled fingers out completely and ignored Seung Gil’s whine of protest, added three fingertips and started again just as he had before.

“Christ, Phichit, I’m ready, fuck!” Seung Gil gasped out, forcing his hips down. He glanced down while he was at it. Phichit _was_ thick. Probably a little less than the average length but certainly thick, and not just for an omega. It wasn’t surprising other omegas sought him out for heats… It looked freaking delicious, especially pressed against Seung Gil’s own longer, thinner cock. They fit together nicely.

“No way!” Phichit cried, moving his hand down in order to avoid impaling Seung Gil as he jerked onto it. “Be good, and let me open you up properly. You said it’s been awhile!”

“Yeah, a year not a century!”

Phichit ignored him, stroking his fingers in that same achingly slow, pulsing motion. “Be good,” he repeated and began to kiss along Seung Gil’s collar bone. “Remember? You said: there is merit in anticipation.” His lilting tone dropped in pitch as he attempted to mimic Seung Gil’s voice.

“Anticipation is a bitch,” Seung Gil wheezed out before drawing in a deep breath. It seemed like he just couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. Phichit dipped his head to lick at one of his nipples, and Seung Gil lost all of that hard-won oxygen in a woosh. He gritted his teeth and squeezed Phichit’s shoulders before pulling the other man flush against him, pinning their cocks together.

He could feel Phichit smile against his chest as he sucked the nipple into his mouth. The three fingers were finally all the way inside Seung Gil, to his great relief, and he was certain he’d never before wanted a cock inside of him so much.

Seung Gil felt the fingers slowly ease o him as Phichit pulled back. He made to leverage himself into a more comfortable position when he felt the hand come back with what must have been four fingers.

“I swear to God, Phichit, if you don’t get on with it, you’re going to be the one whom---“

Phichit slid up Seung Gil’s body and pressed their mouths together in a chaste kiss. “Just joking, love…” He said with their lips brushing and then giggled.

He giggled.

That was _it_. Seung Gil shoved Phichit over onto his back and clambered on top of him, pinning the sweet’s hands over his head. He seated himself neatly on top of the weeping cock waiting for him.

“Your time is up, Phichit…”

All he got as a reply was a quirked eyebrow and a cheeky grin.

Leaving one hand to unnecessarily hold down Phichit’s non-struggling wrists, Seung Gil snagged the forgotten condom from under one of the pillows and maneuvered it onto Phichit with one hand. He was actually a little proud of himself from managing it. Then, he grabbed the lubricant bottle and flicked it open with one finger to squirt some beneath him. It was particularly hard to aim like that, straddled over the other man’s body with only one able hand. Well, at least some of it got on Phichit’s cock. More went onto his stomach or the bed. Close enough.

Seung Gil tossed the bottle aside and grabbed hold of the thick cock waiting for him. It felt heavy in his hand.

“Seems like you’re just a needy as I am… Perhaps even more so…”

“What do you expect, I’ve been trying to get you to take control for the last 15 minutes…”

Seung Gil froze. That. Little. Minx! Cursing himself for not realizing it earlier, he decided to make up for lost time and smoothly lowered himself onto Phichit’s cock.

“Shit, it really is thick!”

Phichit let out a strangled cry and arched off the bed. He ripped his hands out of Seung Gil’s grasp and fastened them to his hips, pulling down as he thrust his own hips up. He slid in to the hilt.

“That, yes, Gil, please, oh fuck, Yes!”

Seung Gil felt a wave of glee threaten to overwhelm him. There was something to be said about being in control, it seemed. He ground his hips in circles. Damn it felt good, Phichit really had prepared him well, even if he had been being a manipulative brat throughout it.  Seung Gil braced his hands on either side of Phichit’s head and dropped his forehead to the other man’s.

“That?” He asked, lifting his hips up and dropping them down again.

“Yes, that, that, that!” Phichit gibbered.

“There?”

Phichit gritted his teeth and slid his hands down onto Seung Gil’s firm ass and squeezed.

“Where…ever you want. Whatever is good for you!” He tipped his chin up, seeking a kiss, and Seung Gil obliged. He latched their lips together, immediately sucking Phichit’s lower lip into his mouth and dragging his tongue across it.

Phichit moaned, raising his hips off the bed to meet Seung Gil as he started an easy pace. He angled his hips a bit and felt the catch of Phichit’s cock against his prostate. _Yes…. Perfect…_

Phichit wrenched his head back, baring his throat completely to Seung Gil and began rambling again. “That’s so good. _Fuck_ , that is…. _Shit_!!” He scrunched his eyes shut, and his whole body shuddered.

Seung Gil could tell the sweet was already losing control. He slid his tongue along Phichit’s jawline to his ear.

“Been awhile, Phichit?” He asked rhetorically, voice deep and thick with want.

Phichit actually let out a whine, lifting his arms to wrap around the man on top of him. Seung Gil felt a sting of nails piercing his back and winced. Pain wasn’t really his thing, but for the look of Phichit clinging to him, it was entirely worth it.

He quickened his pace, hissing in pleasure as he figured out the best angle to get that thick cock to drag along his prostrate with each rocking motion of his hips. He could feel it throbbing inside of him. Phichit was panting, desperate and needy.

“So good so good so…. I’m… Gil… I’m….”

The nails scratched across Seung Gil shoulders, and he dipped his head to lay his teeth against Phichit’s scent gland. “Come,” He commanded simply, and he let his teeth press in. He raised his hips up once more and slammed them down.

Phichit screamed. Seung Gil bit harder at his throat. He knew the placement after all; years and years of study tended to lend useful information, but he had no intention of biting through. Just enough to leave a bruise, perhaps.

Phichit came hard for several seconds, his cock fully buried in Seung Gil, and then he collapsed boneless to the bed, heaving in air.

Seung Gil lapped at the hickey he had left and chuckled at himself for following the motions. It was a bruise not a bond mark. His eyes widened as the thought spun through him. Did he want it to be a bond mark?!

Phichit let out a long, low moan and raised his hands to cover his face. “Gil, shit, this was supposed to be your reward, and I went and made it all about me!”

Seung Gil mentally shook himself. _Later. I’ll think about that later_. He raised up onto his hands again and looked at the man below him. Make-up smudged and hair utterly askew, Phichit was still stunning. He cheeks were flushed, and Seung Gil wondered if he had gained the sweetworker name “Peach” as a play on his actual name or in homage to the beautiful color now dusting across his face.

“I hardly think that I wasn’t enjoying myself…”

“Thank you…” Phichit said softly, lifting a hand to lay against Seung Gil’s cheek. “I’ve never done that with anyone who wasn’t Omega… so I’ve always had to be the dominant one. When I saw the opportunity, well, I couldn’t stop myself from trying.” He grinned.

Seung Gil scoffed before turning his head to kiss the hand stroking his face. “All you had to do was ask…” He was enjoying the last vestiges of Phichit’s erection inside him, but he wanted to avoid the mess of a dick going soft in a condom. He dropped another kiss to Phichit’s lips and brushed their cheeks together before reluctantly sliding off.

Phichit took the hint and rolled to the side to dispose of the condom before flopping back onto his back.

Seung Gil joined him, sliding an arm under Phichit’s upper back and curling the sweet half on top of him.

“Mmm and cuddling, too? You rock.” Phichit buried his face in Seung Gil’s shoulder and threw an arm over his chest. “But… I’m only half-sated…”

“Hmm? I wasn’t expecting complaints after just being praised. Is this the carrot before the stick?” Seung Gil threaded his fingers through Phichit’s now sticky dark hair. The product had finally begun to give.

Phichit placed a hand on the center of Seung Gil’s chest and raised himself up to look directly into his patron’s eyes. “Gil, I want you to fuck me.”

Seung Gil’s already hard cock twitched at the words, and he let out a low groan. “You really have difficulty with the essence of a request, don’t you?”

Phichit laughed his musical little laugh and rolled to the side to open the nightstand and pull out another condom. He ripped it open with his teeth and unrolled in along Seung Gil’s length, dropping the wrapper next to the bed.

“It isn’t very often I get to demand things, and since you seem keen to indulge me… I’m taking every opportunity I can get.” Phichit tugged at Seung Gil until he managed to get the larger man on top of him again.

“So Gimmee!” He wiggled his hips.

Seung Gil slid into position between Phichit’s legs with a rueful shake of his head and settled his fingers against the waiting hole he found there. He felt oddly comfortable about the situation now. Phichit had already gotten off, it wasn’t like he could fuck this up too badly as long as he prepared his partner well.

Phichit’s next words came as a surprise. “Don’t bother. I’m turned on enough that it won’t be an issue. Just go really slow at the beginning.”

Seung Gil recoiled. “Absolutely not. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m not much a sadist, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh hush! Listen… I want it this way. Trust me, will you?” Stubborn, silver eyes and a tilted chin did little to convince Seung Gil toward the suggested course of action. He glared back, crossing his arms.

Phichit sighed. “Come on, Gil. You’re not gonna hurt me. I do this for a living; I know my limits.”

Seung Gil echoed the sound and replied, “I think you just like to push the boundaries of my comfort bubble… You’re really sure?

Phichit nodded, smiling, and handed Seung Gil the lubricant bottle he’d collected from who knows where. Oh thank Christ, they were at least using lubricant.

Seung Gil coated himself liberally and applied some to Phichit as well. Then, he just sat there on his knees for a moment, wondering blandly how the hell to start.

“C’mere,” Phichit chuckled. He flipped over onto his stomach and pushed up to his hands and knees. “I’ll help you.” He reached back and took Seung Gil’s wrapped dick in his hand, guiding it to himself.

Seung Gil inhaled sharply but let himself be drawn forward, squirming when the tip of his cock came into contact with Phichit, who took a deep breath and visibly relaxed his body.

Anxiety threatened Seung Gil’s erection as he obediently laid himself over Phichit’s back, hot breath falling on the back of the sweet’s neck. And then he felt himself slide inside. There was friction, certainly. Wildly tight, hot friction, but Phichit didn’t flinch. In fact, he let out a low moan and dropped his hand away, slowly pushing his hips backward as he dropped his head to his hands.

“S-slow, okay? It’s good, but go slow.” The stuttering voice was filled with need.

Seung Gil felt his heart rate accelerate as he gently eased himself against the pressure. The stupidly pleasurable pressure. Every single fiber on him wanted to jerk forward, slam his hips into Phichit and bury himself balls deep.

Phichit was trembling, whimpering, whining, little sounds and indecipherable words spilling from his lips as he continued to press back, rocking against the oncoming intrusion. It didn’t _sound_ like he was in any pain…

Trust me, Phichit had said, but that wasn’t what was going on, was it? Phichit was trusting Seung Gil. To be gentle. To be careful and safe. Seung Gil could actually render him temporarily useless in his profession, and yet here they were. The sweet arched up below him, offering, encouraging him. It was emotionally explicit and it made his mouth dry.

Seung Gil kissed the side of Phichit’s neck and fought to keep his hips in check. He needed more control; this was too much temptation. Seung Gil leaned back onto his knees and dragged his fingertips along the sides of Phichit’s spine before taking hold of his smooth, caramel hips, stilling them.

Phichit turned his head to the side and glanced an inquiry up at him with one eye, grabbing hold of the comforter for support.

Seung Gil gave a wavering smile in return, composing himself. He was about half-way in, and the frustration was tempting to boil over his walls. Shifting his hips experimentally, Seung Gil tried to ignore the pressing heat and copied Phichit’s earlier motions. He circled his hips, pressed this way and that, feeling the subtle give of the tightness. He moved forward and back, short, easy strokes that went in a little deeper each time, just like when Phichit had prepared him earlier.

Finally, finally, finally! He slid home, digging his nails into Phichit’s hips and breathing harshly. He held there, letting his partner adjust to him. Letting himself adjust. Damn, it was… Phichit wiggled experimentally.

“Fuck, Phichit!” Seung Gil’s thighs were shaking. He bowed his head over Phichit and dropped his forehead to that beautiful back, gritting his teeth.

“Mmmmmm….” Phichit hummed and raised back up onto his hands. “You feel good… You can move, go ahead.”

Move? How? Seung Gil was already so on edge that moving would probably set him off! He stroked Phichit’s sides and kissed his spine instead, buying himself time.

When he felt the tightness in his stomach ease up, he pulled out most of the way and reapplied lube. Then he slid in easily. They both groaned and Seung Gil set up an easy pace, just trying to control himself. This was not what he had imagined it would be. It was better. Much, _much_ better! The slap of skin on skin was lewd and Seung Gil tried to ignore it and the cute little moans coming from Phichit. He turned his head and licked his lips, and Seung Gil spotted Phichit’s hand stroking himself beneath them.

“Kiss me. Please!” He arched his back and turned to the left, reducing the distance between then.

Seung Gil leaned forward again and focused on coordinating his thrusts until their lips met, then he lost it.

The movements went on their own, slamming hard into Phichit as their mouths simply pressed together, open. Seung Gil didn’t have the cognizance to manage anything else. Just the push and pull. The hot and tight. Phichit suddenly gasped into him and shuddered, and Seung Gil felt the tightness around him triple. It blew the lid off his restraint, and the orgasm he had been holding back smashed through him with hurricane level strength. His sight whited out and he bit down, hard, shuddering.

He slowly cascaded back down to earth and fell to the side as an afterthought of not wanting to crush Phichit. They tumbled over together, spooning. Phichit took a deep breath and reached behind him to pull off the condom and toss it in the trashcan, extricating himself from their pretzel-like formation.

Seung Gil’s eyes were closed, but he grumbled at the loss. The comforter was maneuvered out from under him, and he heard a ‘whump’ as it hit the floor then felt a light sheet fall over him.

Phichit squirmed back into his arms and into his previous position, arranging Seung Gil’s arm to use as a pillow for his neck. He wrapped himself up, even entwining their legs, and Seung Gil squeezed tight. He dropped his lips into the crook of his partner’s neck and kissed… wetness? He opened his eyes blearily. It was dark… Phichit must have turned off the light at some point. He propped himself up slightly to get a better view.

His eyes adjusted quickly and his other senses followed, focusing. There, on the left side of Phichit’s throat, was a perfect bond mark. Deep and dripping blood. Horror coursed through Seung Gil, and he began licking at the wound. It had already stained the white sheet, but the darkness made it hard to tell how extensively. The copper taste made his stomach flip-flop and he swallowed roughly.

“Shit… Phichit, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to….”

“Hmm?” came a sleepy answer. “What’re you talking about?”

Seung Gil licked the wound again, stifling a cringe at the taste. “I marked you… I don’t even know when…. I’m sorry.”

“Hnnn… ‘s fine… Felt good. Feels like ‘m yours…” And Phichit’s breathing deepened and slowed.

Seung Gil stared wide-eyed at the man next to him. “Mine?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wahhh?? I didn't mean for it to go that way!!  
> But it went that way... so there we go....  
> Apologies for any unfortunate lack of editing... I wanted to get a chapter to you guys ASAP, and my computer did it's magically turning-off superpower so... frustration. If you see anything major, please do let me know.
> 
> Thanks for reading. :)


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the secrets come out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Yay new chapter! I hope it's enjoyable for you all :D

Victor pulled his car into a parking spot with a screech and slammed the gear shift to Park. Yura was out of the car in a matter of milliseconds with Yuuri hot on his heels. Looking around, Victor recognized the tall red brick building and the gray wall of stone surrounding it. He checked his phone for a second to confirm they were at the address Yakov had dropped to them, and then he scrambled out to follow his mates. Victor had been to this apartment complex many times in the last few years, but he couldn’t bridge the connection to who else he knew that lived in Mila’s building. Mila was an alpha, so this omega in distress had to be someone else.  
  
“Vitya, come on!” Yura called, waiting by the glass entrance doors. “What apartment number is it?!”  
  
Victor checked his phone again, flicking to the text from Yakov. Apt. 1221. He read the number out loud, his mouth scrunching into a suspicious frown. Perhaps the omega was staying at Mila’s apartment for some reason? The idea was convoluted...  
  
He made his way through the entrance and hurried to join Yuuri and Yura waiting at the elevator. Yuuri tapped his foot in a quick pattern on the marble floor, and Yura didn’t seem to understand that frantically pressing the Up button would not entice the elevator to come any faster.  
  
Finally, it did open, and they darted inside. Yura hit the number 12 button, the doors closed, and the metal box began to slowly rise. Several moments passed as they all stared at the arrow marking movement between the floors.  
  
“This is by far the slowest elevator I have ever been in,” Yuuri grumped, resuming his foot tapping as he watched the arrow shift past ‘3’.  
  
“We have some very old buildings…” Victor tried, but he too felt exasperated. “I wonder when this one was even last serviced.” He glanced at the elevator inspection sheet. It was illegible. Wonderful.  
  
“Don’t care!” Yura replied with a scowl. He continued to jab his finger against the number twelve button every couple of seconds.  
  
Victor looked between his two antsy mates. He sighed and leaned against the back wall.  
  
“You two, come here,” he said, spreading his arms wide.  
  
Yura turned and raised an eyebrow, his patented scowl still in place, but when Yuuri came to Victor’s side, he followed. Victor wrapped an arm around each of them, and they molded themselves against him. Yuuri’s face nuzzled into his neck as he wrapped his arms around Victor’s waist. Yura tipped his head to lean his forehead against Victor’s cheek and let out his breath in a heavy rush. He certainly was getting tall…  
  
“There now. Take a minute to just breathe. We don’t know what we’re walking in to, so let’s try to be calm, hmm?” Victor was worried about the unnamed omega-in-danger, but he had both his mates there with him. Yuuri and Yura were emotionally battered but safe and whole; so Victor was emotionally protective and safe and whole. He wanted nothing more than to keep his arms looped around his mates and take them right back home, tuck them in bed, and hide from the world. Alas, this needed to be done, but he wasn’t going to let himself get emotionally distraught over an omega that wasn’t one of his own.  
  
“You try to be calm! You’re not the one going to spend your early twenties stuck in an elevator!”  
  
“Yurio…” Yuuri reached up and tugged at a lock of Yura’s hair. “Be good for a bit. I’m impatient, too, but we’ll be there soon.”  
  
Yura colored. “All right, Alpha…” He answered Yuuri with an exaggerated sigh, dropping his head to Victor’s shoulder.  
  
Victor frowned and considered why it was that Yuuri could always make Yura behave, and yet he had a hell of a time even keeping the boy from jumping off a cliff. It was all entirely unfair! There had to be some trick to it. Victor was actually an alpha! He was still pondering the inequities of his life when the elevator finally came to a stop with a heavy thump.  
  
“Interesting this person lives on the same floor as Milka…” Yura mused. “But thank fuck, we’re actually here!” He wrenched away from his mates and darted through the gap between the doors, somewhat akin to a cat that certainly shouldn’t have been able to fit under the sofa, and yet it managed.  
  
Victor made to follow him out but Yuuri held fast to his arm. His brows were furrowed in concentration, and he blinked rapidly, remembering something.  
  
“Yuuri?”  
  
“Mila is the omega,” Yuuri answered, eyes snapping up to meet Victor’s.  
  
“No… Mila is an alpha…” Victor said with a chuckle, shaking his head.  
  
“No.” Stubbornness refined itself in Yuuri’s voice. “I didn’t know what was up with her scent earlier… This is it. She’s Omega. I know how to distinguish alphan mimicry from a true alpha, but she’s good… Certainly she’s trained under experts somewhere. I didn’t catch it at first, only that something about her was off.”  
  
Victor stopped trying to leave the elevator and simply set a hand on the inside of the door to keep it open. “You’re sure about this… You think Mila has been pretending to be Alpha for five years?”  
  
Yuuri chewed on his lower lip. “Possibly… it may have been the only way she could stay on the ice.” He walked forward and tugged Victor along behind him. “Let’s go find out.”  
  
Victor and Yuuri followed Yura down the yellow wallpapered hall to the right and found Yakov sitting on the floor. He was leaning against the wall with his back and head bowed forward. His elbows hung over his bent knees and his hands were clasped tightly together, his forehead resting against his knuckles. Victor had never seen him look for dejected.  
  
Yura crouched down in front of Yakov and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hey… old man, you all right?”  
  
Yakov shook his head. Yura glanced up to Victor with furrowed eyebrows and a frown.  
  
Yuuri didn’t waste any time. “Where is she?” He asked.  
  
Yakov let out a deep, shaky breath and raised his eyes to meet Yuuri’s. “In her apartment, here.” He pointed at the door across the hall. “Please, hurry. She’s so… Sweet Jesus…. I can’t even…” He dropped his face into his palms.  
  
Yuuri strode to the door and rapped three sharp knocks.  
  
Almost immediately, unlocking clicks sounded, and the door opened a mere sliver. Instantly, the smell of distressed Omega-in-heat, of mango and mint, flooded from the room. Victor stumbled and had to catch the wall for support. Yuuri glanced back at him and narrowed his eyes.  
  
Dr. Yang stuck her head out, and her eyes widened. “Thank God! Katsuki-san, Mr. Plistetsky, come in immediately.” She came through and then held the door just-slightly ajar for the men to enter. She looked like the kind of run-down a person can only reach by living out of their car for a week, if they had to share that car with a wild raccoon.  
  
Victor made to follow, but Yuuri turned back and pressed a palm to his chest, stopping all forward momentum. His eyes were slowly warping to silver, responding to the poor omega’s needs, and they were firm and hard.  
  
 “Mr. Nikiforov,” Dr. Yang interjected before Victor could even open his mouth, “Alphas can’t go near her. Only once-bonded or not, you won’t be able to control yourself. Stay with Mr. Feltsman, please.” She glanced down at the sober man on the floor. “I think he could dearly use some company.”  
  
Victor fought to keep a scowl from his face. He resented the idea that he had such poor control that he would jump an omega simply because she was in heat. He began to object, but Yuuri slipped through the tiny opening between the door and the frame and disappeared.  
  
“She’s right, I think. Especially considering…” Yura raised a hand and looked pointedly at his own wrist, and then he too turned and slipped inside. Dr. Yang gave a smile that she probably thought was comforting (it was more anguished than anything,) and followed the men inside, shutting the door tightly behind her.  
  
Victor let the scowl come out when there was no one left to see it. He tried to brush aside the grumpy left-out feeling, folded his long legs under himself, and slumped down next to Yakov.  
  
The man had never looked older. Worry creased his eyebrows, deepening the furrow between them that Victor had surely contributed to during his younger years. Okay, Victor was probably still contributing to Yakov’s stress levels to this day.  
  
They sat in silence for a few moments. Victor couldn’t hear much coming from inside the room; if he remembered correctly, this building had decent scent and sound blocking built into the walls.  
  
Yakov inhaled deeply and let out a long sigh. “Vitya…”  
  
“Yakov?” Victor settled a hand on his ex-coach’s shoulder. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”  
  
Yakov slumped even lower, although that shouldn’t have possible. “I suppose it will all come out anyway now, but I hope you manage to keep any information you and your mates learn here today between us.”  
  
“I do believe secrets are kind of our thing these days… Yuuri as an ex-sweetworker is incredibly dependable in that regard. And Yura and I have never been much for gossiping.”  
  
Yakov looked up and raised a thick gray eyebrow.  
  
“I promise not to post anything on Instagram. Come on, Yakov, I can help you manage the fall-out of all this.”  
  
At that, Yakov returned his gaze to the white tile floor and nodded gravely. “That’s certainly true, Vitya. With all of the craziness you got up to in your heyday you somehow always managed to get yourself right back out of it. You’ve done well regulating the press for Yurotchka, as well. Even better than I did, I dare say.”  
  
Victor felt a genuine smile peel his lips apart. “Thank you…”  
  
“Don’t let it go to your head.” Then, Yakov shook himself and turned to face his ex-skater. “You’ve been asking me for years where Mila went after her presentation, and now I’m finally going to answer you. She spent the month in South Korea learning to manage omegian suppressants and mimic alphan pheromones. She presented as Omega and has been managing all her symptoms ever since.” Then he waited, clenching his jaw, clearly impatient for Victor’s response.  
  
Victor slowly mulled over the new information. He had known something was going on with his rinkmate, but he hadn’t thought it was something as big as all this. Maybe that she’d gotten a boyfriend or a dog. Perhaps she’d been pregnant and had an abortion or was dabbling in the world of illicit substances. Hell, Victor would have expected Mila to have been hiding a cold-blooded murder before he would have bet on this. He chewed his lower lip for moment, debating what to say. Slowly, the situation elaborated itself in his mind, drawing out to all of the different conclusions and consequences that could result.  
  
“You’re going against the ISU and FFKK… Omegas are forbidden from higher level competitive figure skating both internationally and specifically in Russia.”  
  
“Really,” Yakov deadpanned. “I didn’t know that Vitya, why don’t you educate me on the subject?”  
  
Victor colored. “I mean to ask… Why are you breaking the law? If you’re caught, not only will you and Mila go before both Boards and be banned from the sport with ridiculous fines, there’s a high likelihood that our entire ice sports association would be temporarily disbanded or even permanently shut down.” He was starting to get angry, and it took quite a lot to incur Victor’s temper. “Mila could be put into the federal sweetwork program! Hell, we could all end up banished to a Siberian prison! You could have ruined all of our lives just to keep one girl on the ice!” By the end of his monologue, Victor was on his feet, shouting and waving his arms. He was furious. Yura and he could have lost their skating rights. The Olympics and the Grand Prix could have banned Russia for who knows how long?!  
  
Yakov clambered up to stand opposite Victor. “Don’t you think I know that?! I didn’t know what to do! I had to support my daughter!” Both Yakov’s words and tight fists were shaking with emotions.  
  
“So you put all of us at risk… just because Mila wanted to skate,” Victor summarized. His mouth compressed into a thin line. Victor’s fire tended to burn out quickly… but the cold rage that followed in its wake was far more terrifying to those who truly knew him. A cold Victor was vicious.  
  
Yakov’s voice became something of a growl. He glared at Victor with great bitterness. “No, you idiot. I never would have let this continue if it were just for the sport. She wanted to be herself! She presented Omega but to the fiber of her bones she feels Alpha!”  
  
Victor narrowed his eyes. “What… Why?” He splayed his hands out. Well that was confusing. Why on earth would she think she was a different dynamic than the one as which she presented? Yuuri hadn’t wanted to be Omega, but he still was one. He hadn’t pretended to be something other than what he was.  
  
“You know just as much as I do in that regard,” Yakov said with a sigh, deflating. He dropped back down onto the floor and resumed his previous posture. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “She’s tried to explain it to me a thousand times, but I just don’t get it. All I know is she would have killed herself if I forced her to be Omega.”  
  
Victor echoed the sigh and sat down again, too. So this wasn’t as simple as Mila wanting to keep her career. “I think you ought to explain this to me from the beginning. We’ll probably be out here a while anyway so….”  
  
Yakov lifted his eyes from his hands and nodded wearily.

* * *

Sara started when the bedroom door slammed open. She and Mila were all twined up together, awash in the alphan hormones leaking from the patches on their skin. The distressed red-head had finally pressed her body flush against Sara’s, linking their legs and mouthing against Sara’s throat. If Mila noticed the new arrival, she didn’t show any sign of it.  
  
Yuuri burst into the room. His face was twisted in worry, and he let out a deep breath as he slowly approached the bed.  
  
“Sara… How is she?”  
  
“How do you think, Katsuki? She’s fucking bad!” Mila let out an unhappy noise, and Sara snapped her mouth shut and took a deep breath of her own. She knew the alphan hormones sinking into her blood were corrupting her temperament. They were obnoxious and itchy, and she didn’t like them at all. Not one bit!  
  
Yuuri nodded soberly. He didn’t even seem to care about the rudeness of Sara’s response, or that she certainly should have at least called him Senpai. He seemed to only care about Mila. Sara chuckled to herself. Fucking quality Highest Tier sweetworker, right there. Maybe Sara was kidding herself when she thought she could take his place at Yutopia. She probably didn’t have the patience nor the resolve to deal with situations like this on a regular basis.  
  
Yuuri glanced at the patches. He settled his fingers against one on the side of Mila’s throat, and his eyes widened. “Gods, how strong are these things?”  
  
“Izzy-sensei said they’re eight-times the normal high-strength patches from home.”  
  
Mila let out a low moan, burrowing herself deeper into her bedmate, and Sara squirmed. Mila’s fever may have dissipated a lot, but her flesh was still uncomfortably hot. Sara wished they could at least open a window.  
  
The side of the bed dipped as it adjusted to Yuuri’s weight. “Do you need a break? Can I take over for you for a while?” His voice was low, soothing, almost as if he were speaking to a wild animal… or a child.  “I spoke briefly with Izzy-sensei about the situation, and she said omegas are fine, right?” Yuuri waited for Sara’s response. His voice was perfectly controlled. Perfectly patient and perfectly caring. Fucking perfect asshole.  
  
Sara sighed and accepted the help. “Yeah, I-… Yeah, if I could get up for a minute or two, get some water and refresh, that’d be good.” She made to extricate herself from Mila. The girl whimpered. Sara looked at her ex-coworker and shrugged as best she could within Mila’s tight embrace.  
  
Yuuri’s worried face smiled a sad little smile, then the scent of cinnamon and brown sugar roared into the air.  Sara clutched at her chest as it went tight, and a low moan slipped from her mouth.  
  
“Fuck… Yuuri… fuck, stop it! She’s not the only one that’s going to feel that!”  
  
Yuuri ignored her and pressed a hand against the back of Mila’s neck. “Let go,” the ex-sweet commanded.  
  
Mila immediately obeyed, unwinding her long limbs from around Sara and detaching herself. She rolled toward the edge of the bed and opened watery silver eyes. It was the first time in a while that Sara had seen any coherence in them. She took the opportunity to flop herself onto the floor, gasping for air around the rich cinnamon mimicry flowing from Yuuri.  
  
“No… no Alphas!” Mila husked out of a raw throat.  
  
Yuuri ignored Mila’s words and settled himself closer to her on the bed. “Sara, go. Take a break. Come back when you can take another shift. I have no idea how long I can hold this level of mimicry.”  
  
Sara nodded, swallowing. She scrambled to her feet, stumbling toward the door, and Mila started crying again. She was sobbing, trying to keep herself from Yuuri and failing. Her body was drawing her toward the alphan-like pheromones he was exuding. Sara scowled. Mimicry so strong that an omega was completely undone by them. Damn, he was so fucking good!  
  
She tottered to the door and used the frame for support as she exited and shut the door behind her. Then she ripped the alphan patches off her wrists and threw them aside before slumping against the wall for a moment.  
  
“Sara… right?”  
  
Yuuri’s blond mate was crouched down in front of her so he could see her face beneath her hair. He was nursing the crook of his elbow, which was decorated with a sparkly silver band-aid, and his bright green eyes peered at her with concern.  
  
Sara nodded.  
  
“How is Mila?”  
  
“She’s… not well, Alpha.” As the words left her lips, Sara’s eyes widened as she suddenly realized the danger that Mila was in. She raised her hands and shoved Yuri toward the front door. “You can’t be in here! Even bonded, an alpha like you will still be overcome by all her pheromones!”  
  
Yuri’s lips quirked into a half-smirk and he caught her hands where they were pushing fruitlessly at his chest. Then he tapped a finger to his own cheek bone, just beneath his right eye. His right green eye. Pretty color, really.  
  
Sara froze. There was no way his eyes wouldn’t have gone gold in this situation. The man couldn’t be Alpha. She frowned, confused.  
  
Izzy-sensei bustled into the room from the kitchen. The double-hinged door swung back and forth behind her as she arranged a set of test tubes in a stand on the table. Sara looked at the layers in the glass tubes and figured she must have used the centrifuge thingy to separate it out. Thank you required high school chemistry course.  
  
Yuri dropped Sara’s hands. He turned and approached the opposite side of the table from Izzy-sensei. “Well, have you finished it? Will it work?!”  
  
“Mr. Plisetsky, it’s been 10 minutes. It’ll take a bit longer.” Her tone was sharp. She pulled a syringe from her black bag and scowled, muttering about lack of proper equipment and sterile conditions.  
  
She drew up the clear layer from one of the test tubes and transferred it to an empty one. Then she added some drops from little caps of fluid. Sara had no idea what was going on, and from his bewildered expression, neither did Yuri. Finally, Izzy-sensei drew up a small portion of the weird alchemic substance and dripped it slowly into a test tube filled with unseparated blood.  
  
Sara didn’t know why, but she held her breath. It seemed like Yuri and Izzy-sensei did too as they all stared at the test tube as the physician took it in one purple-gloved hand and inverted it. Once, twice… five times in all. She settled it back into the stand. They waited. At least 30 seconds went by. Then a minute. The tension in the room weighed on Sara’s body, tempting her to sink to the ground. Izzy-sensei clenching and unclenching her fists. Yuri was chewing on his lower lip. Sara felt like she should be doing something but didn’t have the faintest idea what that something was. And finally, Izzy-sensei’s breath rushed out of her lungs in a happy, shallow laugh, and with it the tension in the room released like the snap of a released balloon.  
  
“Well??” Yuri asked, stepping forward for a closer look. “Will it work?”  
  
Izzy bent her elbows and raised her purple-gloved hands palm up, shrugging. “I have no clue, but it probably won’t kill her.”  
  
“That’s not very reassuring, Izzy-sensei,” Sara said, slowly.  
  
“Is there any other option that won’t kill her?” Yuri cut in.  
  
Izzy shook her head, and her shoulders hunched.  
  
“Then it’s good enough for me,” Yuri declared. “Dr. Lee came up with this formula, right? I’ll take it.”  
  
Izzy-sensei’s lips compressed in a thin line, and she visibly steeled herself before pulling out a clean syringe. She drew up some specific amount of the now-tested formula and held it needle point up, flicking at it to get the bubbles out.  
  
Then she slid the syringe across the table to catch the cap on it and clicked it back into place. “Let’s do this.”  
  
Sara spun around on her heel and reached for the bedroom door handle. It’s not as if she had ever managed to get very far away from it, running straight into weird not-Alpha Yuri. He had to be Beta if his eyes weren’t changing. Sara knew her eyes would be just like Yuuri’s: blinding sliver, and Yuri’s ought to be gold. And he ought to be freaking out from Mila’s pheromones. This whole thing made no sense what-so-ever. Of course, if he were Beta maybe that would explain his unemotional attitude toward his friend. Sara thought he was acting emotionally flat. Maybe he was just like this in stressful situations. Either that, or he had reached his limit on feelings or something. She shoved the door forward and stepped into the bedroom.  
  
The first thing she saw was red. So much red. Pink and red bandages littered the floor. Mila let out a piteous mewl. She was flopped back on the bed, her head lolled half-way off and staring with glassy eyes. All her criss-crossed skin was bare again, and her bloody fingers trailed lazily across her skin. Blood dribbled slowly from her mouth.  
  
The horror in Yuuri’s voice drew Sara’s eyes away from Mila. “It’s not working…I’m not working!”  
  
Yuuri eyes were black; pupils blown so wide that they eclipsed his silver irises. Tears ran down his face in twin tracks of frustration and despair. The same deep scratches that littered Mila’s body seemed to have spread onto Yuuri, and from the blood slicked on both omegas’ hands and caked under their finger nails, Sara wasn’t sure who had done more damage.  
  
Sara stumbled forward as she was shoved out of the way.  
  
“Yuuri!” Yuri sprung toward the bed, curling his long limbs around his mate. “What is this? What the fuck is going on?”  
  
Yuuri shuddered and turned into Yuri’s chest before he began full-fledged sobbing. Sara could surmise what had happened; she had enough experience in sweetwork to at least do that. Yuuri hadn’t been able to help Mila. She’d lost the stability that Sara had last seen in her and was declining rapidly. And everything within Yuuri as an omega and a sweetworker would be screaming at him that he was a failure. Useless. Unable to do the only job he had: help people manage ruts and heats. Sympathy spiraled its way through Sara, but at her core, it met something else: Rage. Yuuri had been in here for at least 15 minutes. 15 minutes in which all of Sara’s work had been decimated, and he hadn’t called her back. He had just sat there, moping, freaking out, and failing to manage their patron, and he hadn’t called Sara back. She bristled.  
  
Since Yuri wasn’t getting any answers from his mate, he looked to Izzy-sensei. The physician had begun checking Mila’s vitals. She didn’t look happy as she gave her diagnosis.  
  
“Overdose of alphan hormones coupled with the lack of effective omegian pheromone interference and rebound of dynamic shock leading to rapid decompensation.” She ripped off the patch decorating Mila’s neck and turned to Sara. “We need to stabilize her before I can administer the injection. Can you….”  
  
She didn’t need to finish the request. Sara dove onto the bed and wrapped herself around the prone woman. She encouraged her omegian pheromones to blast and pulled Mila’s face to her throat. Papaya and vanilla rushed out of Sara, still barely noticeable above the mango and mint destruction of Mila’s heat.  Yuuri had dropped his mimicry, so his scent wasn’t even perceptible.  
  
Mila made no noises nor movements. Sara felt a sensation of desperation begin building inside her. There was no true reason for her to care about the woman in her arms more than any other patron, but Sara knew she had become invested in the pretty, red-haired ice skater. She squeezed her tighter and waited.  
  
“Please… please wake up. I need you to show me the real you like you promised. We had a deal, so don’t welch on me.” Sara whispered her words into Mila’s hair, rocking her gently.  
  
Izzy-sensei finally answered Yuri’s wordless request for guidance. “This doesn’t make any sense. He’s only once-bonded… He should be able to manage this level of heat just fine.”

Yuuri turned away from his mate’s chest, a look of horror on his face. He slowly raised a hand and pulled back the sleeve of his green shirt, revealing a bright red bite mark. Yuri mimicked him, baring his own marked wrist.

Izzy’s face instantly took on a similar expression to Yuuri’s. “No…. Shit! You should have told me you’d sealed a second mark! As twice-bonded, you could probably still manage another omega during heat with how strong your mimicry is, but the interference of the alphan hormones in your blood tipped the scale… You could never manage something of this degree.” She tangled her fingers in her hair as she spoke quickly, succinctly, but when Yuri made to reply she smoothed the tangles down and interrupted him.

“I take responsibility for this. I should never have asked Yuuri to try to manage Mila. Take him out to your Alpha; he’ll be fine,” Izzy-sensei directed, and without a word, Yuri gathered the crumpled Yuuri into his arms and darted from the room.  
  
Izzy flipped open her black bag and pulled out a plastic sheath of fluid. Sara knew she had inserted a needle of some sort into the crook of Mila’s elbow “for emergencies.” This was clearly just such a situation.  Izzy hooked the bag up to some plastic tubing and connected it the line in Mila’s arm, hanging the bag on one of Mila’s tall bed posts. She grabbed a few vials from her black bag and observed them closely with furrowed brows. Then with a firm nod, she began to draw the fluids into a syringe and inject them into Mila’s port, one-by-one with speed only an emergency can elicit. All the while she muttered to herself. “LR wide open. Norepinephrine. Dantrolene. Hope and Pray.”  
  
Slow seconds passed. Sara waited. She squeezed Mila to herself and prayed. The body in her arms remained lax, feeling like nothing more than a soulless doll. Izzy-sensei was biting her lip, and she had a fist clenched white in front of her chest, a look of terrified determination in her eyes. They waited.  
  
“Please wake up…” Sara whispered again into messy red hair. “Please, honey… Please come back…”  
  
And Mila heard. A sudden intake of breath and she stirred, pushing back to look up at Sara with silver, red-rimmed eyes.  
  
“Yes, yes, yes, good girl!” Izzy-sensei cried. She grabbed the syringe waiting for her: the one with the dangerous concoction of who knows what, and injected it into Mila’s port. The untainted fluids bag continued to flow, uninhibited.  
  
“Hi…” Mila murmured weakly. She raised a hand to wipe the blood away from her mouth. “What happened?”  
  
“Honey, I think you almost died…”  A surge of gratitude and protectiveness overcame Sara, and she smashed the other woman against her chest. “Don’t do that again!”  
  
“I’ll try my hardest,” Mila replied with a hoarse chuckle, her head tucked under Sara’s. Then she pushed back again to turn to Izzy-sensei. “Doctor… I feel a lot better… what’s going on.”  
  
“Pharmacy and hopefully the magic of Lee Seung-Gil,” Izzy answered in a dry tone, shaking her head. “You’re just hyped on meds and symptomatically controlled right now. If this new concoction is going to work, it should start soon.”  
  
Mila nodded and turned back to Sara. “Thank you for taking care of me.”  
  
“Oh honey, you’re welc-” Sara cut off. Mila’s eyes were changing color. The silver was slowly gaining a blue tinge. And then, all at once, the final color snapped into place.  
  
“You have blue eyes…” Sara whispered.  
  
“And yours are silver,” Mila replied, looking searchingly into her. “Wait, my eyes are blue?!”  
  
Izzy let out a whoop. She scrambled on to the bed. “You must tell me everything. Everything you remember. How do you feel right now? Do you feel any of the heat ardour from before? Let me take all of your vitals.” As per usual, Izzy didn’t wait for answers from her flustered patient. She popped a thermometer in to Mila’s mouth and began taking her blood pressure, forgetting to put her stethoscope in her ears.  
  
Sara grinned. She laughed and fell back onto the bed. The stress of the situation that she had been hiding from herself: her worry, her anxiety of not being good enough, her confusion and terror and anger finally bubbled to the surface, no longer needing to be compressed. Tears began to stream down her face, and she laughed and laughed.  
  
Izzy-sensei kept talking over Sara’s fit of laughter. “Don’t mind her, she’s just been very worried about you.” The thermometer beeped and she took it from between Mila’s lips.  
  
Mila’s look of bewilderment morphed into one of embarrassed pleasure. “I’m sorry to be so much trouble. I feel strange. I can’t really describe it. Everything’s so clean and crisp.” She looked around the room in wonderment.  
  
Izzy-sensei watched her patient carefully. “Come, I want to do some tests and ask some questions, but then I’ll let you rest. You must be very tired.”  
  
“Yeah, I’m pretty wiped,” Mila acknowledged. She took a deep breath and shook her head with dismay. “I’m going to have to have someone come in and de-scent the place for sure. Jesus, why do I have all these cuts?!"

Sara laughed even harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per usual: don't let random physicians inject you with random made-up pharmaceuticals in your apartment.
> 
> Love you guys!


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fall-out.

Yuuri found himself dropped unceremoniously into Victor’s lap. He was still wracked with sobs, only now they were the silent, devastatingly painful to watch type of crying, and it was embarrassing. Fortunately, the smell of Alpha and lemon and honey and home washed over Yuuri as Victor instantly went into protective mode.

“What on earth?! Yuuri, are you all right?” He wrapped his arms around his mate and cuddled him tightly against his chest.

Yuuri grabbed twin fists full of Victor’s silk shirt and buried his face in the fabric, shaking his head. He tried not to feel bad about staining the fabric.

Victor started speaking in rapid Russian while he stroked Yuuri’s back in steady, soothing motions. The volume went up and down in accordance to changing emotions, and Yurio and Yakov babbled back just as incomprehensibly. It normally annoyed the crap out of Yuuri when people around him spoke languages he couldn’t understand when there was perfectly good mutually understood language available. People had done it all the time at Yutopia to discuss the sweetworkers in front of their noses. Right now, however, the only thing that Yuuri could think of was Mila’s silver, dead eyes and her broken body. Yurio must be telling them all about it.

About how he had failed. For the first time since J.J.’s presentation, Yuuri had failed someone under his charge. For his entire adult life, he had only been valued for his sweetwork training and abilities, and he had no other useful skills and no goals of any kind. If Yuuri couldn’t help Alphas and Omegas in distress, then what good was he? He felt like his self-esteem had taken a boxer’s punch to the gut sands glove. It was a stabbing, wrenching pain, and he wouldn’t have been surprised to find his entrails spewing out should he look down.

“But how is Mila?!” Yakov finally growled out to Yuuri in English, shaking his shoulder.

Victor hissed and scooted away from Yakov, moving Yuuri out of reach.

Yuuri attempted to respond and ended up hiccupping. Like an idiot. Great.

Yurio kneeled down in between his mates and Yakov, setting a calming hand on Victor’s arm and holding his Alpha’s gaze for a moment. Then, he drew Yakov’s attention back to himself and answered the question. “We have done all we can to help her. It’s up to the physician now, but I think we’ll know soon  
“We should go,” Victor announced. Yuuri curled himself up tightly as he was rearranged into a more suitable carrying position. “I think we’ve all had more than enough excitement and grief to contend with today. We’re going home.”

Yakov looked up sharply. “You don’t even care if Milka will live? That’s rather cold, Vitya.”

Victor’s gaze narrowed as he turned sharply toward his ex-coach. “Forgive me, Yakov, if I want to take my mates home after we’ve been through an erratic slew of stressful events, including but not necessarily limited to: Yura’s grandfather’s sudden death; the subsequent break-neck drive over here at your behest; the realization that you’ve been lying to us about Milka for half a decade and that we may yet lose her, too; and Yuuri’s resultant physical and mental break-down whilst trying to save her.”

Yuuri winced. That was exactly what this was, wasn’t it? He glanced down at the red cuts criss-crossing his skin. When the fuck had he done that? Damn it those could scar, and then he wouldn’t even be attractive anymore. Fail, fail, faaaaailuuuure. He couldn’t believe he’d gone so out of control.

Yakov nodded soberly with a sigh. “I’m sorry. You’re right; you need to take care of your own. If Dr. Yang has dismissed you, then I expect that’s an acceptable course of action.” He turned to Yurio and held out his hand. “Thank you for coming Yurotchka, and I extend my deepest sympathies for the loss of Kolya. He was a good man and a great friend. He will be sorely missed.”

Yurio returned the handshake, his jaw tight. “Of course. Thank you for your kind regards.” His words were carefully controlled, devoid of emotion. They made Yuuri’s chest hurt.

“Please keep us updated of the situation,” Victor requested as he maneuvered to his feet and stood. He was carrying Yuuri somewhat like a koala, with Yuuri’s shaky arms wrapped around his neck. Yuuri obediently tightened his legs around Victor’s waist and felt hands support him under his thighs.

“I can w-“ Yuuri  started to say, but then he actually thought about it. Could he walk? Maybe. Maybe not. His legs felt useless, like they might turn to jelly if he tried to stand.

“Hush. I want to carry you. Please let me do at least this.” Victor’s voice was soft and caring, full of love and need. He kissed Yuuri’s hair, breathing him in.

It was okay then… if Victor wanted to hold him. It was okay if it wasn’t just Yuuri’s selfishness that resulted in this course of action. Yuuri nuzzled into his Alpha’s scent gland, luring out more of the potent lemon-honey mix, and nodded.

Yurio walked ahead of them with purpose, pressing the button of the elevator and sighing resolutely.

“Yura?”

Yurio hung his head. “I’m useless right now. Without alphan or omegian hormones, I can’t help him feel any better. I’m starting to understand what he felt like in there with Mila.”

Yuuri internally scoffed. That was foolish. Yurio’s worried but controlled demeanor flowed through their bonds, and it was already improving Yuuri’s state of mind, if not yet his motor function.

Victor let out a hum of consideration and slid Yuuri onto one of his arms so he could wrap the other around his waist. “I don’t think that’s the case here. Come. Let’s take our hour-long elevator ride downstairs and go home. Yakov will call us when he was news of Mila.”

Yurio mumbled something that involved complaints, curse words, and “how would you know...”

The bell dinged to announce the elevator’s arrival and the doors slid open slow as sunrise. As they all stepped inside, Yurio tapped the 0 button and promptly sat down on the floor in a cross-legged position. His eyebrows were crinkled together, and a scowl decorated his mouth. It took Yuuri a moment to realize he was trying very hard not to cry.

“You’re worried about Mila…” Yuuri noted in a soft voice.

Yurio’s eyes snapped up, and he swallowed roughly. Then his face fell, drawing downward into sadness flavored with a shot of frustration. He reached out his arms, beckoning his mates to him.

Victor turned around and carefully slid down the wall to a seated position before releasing his marsupial-like mate.

Yuuri eased himself onto Yurio’s lap and curled up there, tucking his head beneath his younger mate’s angular chin and wrapping Yurio’s arms around him. Then he reached over and caught Victor’s hand, gripping it tightly. A sigh of relief breathed from his lips. Safe. Yuuri felt safe in the cocoon of Yurio’s larger form with Victor so near them.

Yurio automatically tightened his grip as he leaned against Victor’s shoulder. He waited a long moment before speaking: a pause to consider his words. When he spoke them, they were rushed and pressured as they tore from his mouth, desperate to be freed from their captivity within his heart.

“I can’t lose her, too. Not today. Don’t you ever tell her this, but she’s like my big sister. We’ve been together since we were kids. She’s always looked out for me. I love her!”

“Funny, I was going to say something similar.” Victor carded his fingers  Milka will always be my little sister. She was the cutest thing when she started training with Yakov. I can’t believe how tall she’s grown. Before your growth spurt she had a good 6 inches on you.” Victor squeezed Yuuri’s hand and threaded his fingers through Yurio’s hair. The fact that Yurio didn’t respond to the height comment leant weight to how bad he must be feeling.

“Just trust that she’ll be all right. That’s all we can do.”

The elevator hit the bottom floor with a soft thump simultaneously with the buzzing ring announcing a call on Victor’s phone. He released Yuuri’s hand to retrieve it from his pocket and flicked the screen.

“It’s Yakov.”

“Already?!” Yurio leaned around Yuuri to get a look at the phone as though seeing the name on the screen would comfort him.

Victor hit the green phone shape to answer and then pressed on speaker phone. “Allo?” He held out the phone flat on his palm before him.

“Vitya! Vitya, it’s amazing!” Yakov’s voice boomed out of the phone. Happy excitement had his deep bass trembling.

Yuuri turned around and looked at the phone in disbelief. What on earth could he be so happy about?

Yurio voiced the question aloud. “Yakov, what’s going on?”

“Yurotchka? She’s fine! No, she’s great! She’s Beta!”

Victor’s mouth dropped open. “She’s…”

Yuuri beat him to it. “She’s a _beta?!_ ”

“Yes! She’s so happy. Tired, but, ah hold on. Here, I’ll let her tell you. You should take the morning off- that’s an order. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

There was a rustling as the phone was passed around, and then a female voice answered. “Allo?”

Yurio leaned forward and burst into Russian. All Yuuri could get out of it was how concerned he was. “Milka! Ты в порядке? Как вы себя чувствуете? Мы так волновались! Скажи мне, что ты в порядке!!!”

 And Mila laughed. It sounded exhausted, but it was certainly a happy laugh. “Yurotchka, calm down, I’m fine. Dr. Yang and Yakov tell me that you were somehow essential to making the concoction that saved me, so thank you. I feel so good like this. Better than I ever have… since I presented.” She stalled for a moment, likely not wanting to bring up what Yuuri was now thinking of as “The Great Alpha Illusion.”  “Good! Good… Yeah, I knew you would be fine.” Yurio relaxed back against the wall of the elevator. “You’re too much of pest to die on me.”

Mila chuckled. “Riiight…. And thank your mate for bringing me the pretty omega girl. Is it weird that I kinda wanna keep her?”

A smile finally worked its way onto Yuuri’s face. If Mila really was okay, then no harm no foul… “You can keep her if you sign for her,” he said quietly.

Another female voice popped up. “Damn you, Yuu, I heard that!” Apparently, Victor’s phone wasn’t the only one on speaker to an audience.

Yurio changed the subject. “Mila, why the fuck is your elevator so slow? This thing is like you trying to do jumps in the second half of your free skate.”

“So, like your ass in the morning when we have to get to practice?” Mila snapped back.

“Sometimes, I’m jealous of people that don’t know you.”

“Ah, Yurotchka, every time I hear your voice, I have the fierce desire to have been born deaf.”

“Why don’t you go play in traffic, Milka?”

“If I wanted to commit suicide, I’d bet my life on your ability to land a clean quad lutz in competition.”

As the banter continued, Yurio’s smile grew wider and wider. A brief pause came forth in their witty repartee on Yurio’s turn before he answered. “I’m glad you’re okay, you old hag. You fucking worried me.”

“Pffft… Don’t be stupid. I was gonna be fine either way.”

“Get some sleep, grandma.”

“You, too, you little punk.”

The phone made a ‘blip’ noise as Mila hung up.

Yuuri, Victor, and Yurio stared at it for a moment.

“Yeah, she’s good now,” Yurio finally announced. He nudged Yuuri to stand up and rose to his feet himself, offering a hand down to Victor. “Come on, let’s go home. I’m tired as fuck.” 

* * *

 

 Mila hung up the phone and smiled to herself as she opened her bedroom door and walked out to find Yakov and Dr. Yang seated at her table.

Yakov beamed at her, rising and engulfing her in a great bear hug. “There’s my girl.”

Mila snuggled into him, feeling the familiar, puffy, red coat under her hands.

“How are you feeling?”

“About the same as when you asked ten minutes ago,” she replied with a chuckle, “But I’m glad I could alleviate Vitya and Yurotchka’s worries.”

Yakov looked at her seriously.

“I really am fine now thanks to you lot,” she assured, patting his arm. “Just so tired.”

After her rinkmates had departed and Mila had suddenly woken up, Dr. Yang and Yakov had debriefed her. Truthfully, she hadn’t remembered all that much from after the heat haze hit, but she answered to the best of her ability through the mind-numbing exhaustion dragging her toward her bed.

Dr. Yang had also attended to Mila’s wounds. The cuts weren’t altogether too dangerous, but the physician cleaned and treated them all and bandaged up the deeper ones. She’d put in a total of six stiches. Mila winced, knowing they would pull on the skin of her thigh and waist when she was skating. The physical pain felt strangely clearer than she would have expected it to. Undiluted, perhaps, was a better description for it? Dr. Yang had explained that may have something to do with Mila now manifesting essentially a beta dynamic.

Beta. Her body was Beta. The smile on her face stretched out almost painfully as she considered again how much closer to Alpha her body was than before. No more heats that didn’t make sense. No more desperate, disgusting urges to be touch by Alphas.  It was so so so wonderful! She would have to get Yurotchka quite a Christmas gift this year.

A hand clasped her shoulder, and Mila realized she had closed her eyes. She opened them to see Yakov’s concerned gaze and gentle smile.

“Girl, you get some sleep. You look like you’re going to topple over right here and now.”

Mila nodded, and when Yakov declared he would host Dr. Yang at his place for the night to give Victor and his mates some privacy, she thanked them again and turned to stumble into her room.

Sara had gone to shower while Mila played on the phone with Yurotchka. She wanted to make it absolutely clear that she was okay, and fighting with him was the very best way to show him she was back to normal behavior. The stupid, sweet kid. Damn, Mila really loved her family.  She shut the door behind her.

“You and Yuuri’s mate have an interesting relationship, huh, honey?” Sara asked. She was sitting on Mila’s bed, rocking back and forth and holding on to her toes.  Her long, black hair was down now, damp since she had showered, and she had chosen to dress in one of Mila’s sets of pajamas (the pink tank top and shorts with lace and bunny print.) She looked adorable, and her hair was leaving wet trails down the fabric.

They were a little big on her, but Mila didn’t have anything smaller to offer. She’d pretty much decimated the clothes Sara had originally come dressed in, so she’d told the other woman to pick whatever she liked from the bureau. Sara apparently liked to wear cute things, and that suited Mila just fine.

“You cleaned everything up…” Mila noted, glancing around. All the dirty bandages and other remnants of the debacle had been cleared away and the sheets changed.

“Mmm…” was all of Sara’s reply. She, too, looked beyond drained. She waved a hand gently, beckoning Mila.

Mila went to her. It was strange not to feel any subtle dynamic pull, and she approached simply because she wanted to.  She settled next to Sara on the white sheets, feeling a little bad to dirty them since she hadn’t fully bathed yet. She felt pretty gross, frankly.

“So why did you decide to stay with me? I really am all right now, you know.”

Sara gave Mila a wry half-smile. “Sure you are, honey, but I have to take care of you and watch over you for the rest of the night. It goes against our code to do anything else after a patron’s heat or rut.”

It turned out Sara had violet eyes. They were absolutely gorgeous.

Mila shook her head to clear it, a bit disappointed to hear the omega only wanted to stay to care for her as a patron. She sighed softly. _Come on, Mila, what, you think she might have been attracted to you despite the hell you just put her through? Grow the fuck up; you’re just a job._

Mila rose from the bed with a murmur about showering and not waiting up and escaped to the bathroom.

 

When she came back, the ceiling light had been turned off, and Sara was curled up under the covers basked in the dim light of the desk lamp. It was sweet of her to leave a light on… Mila finished towel-drying her hair and hung the pink terrycloth on the door hook. Shaking off a wave of sudden nervousness, she carefully climbed into bed and laid down on her side next to Sara. Mila was close enough to feel the heat coming off the other woman, but for some reason, she didn’t dare touch her. Her fingers itched, and irritation bubbled inside of her.

With a sigh, she flicked the switch on the wall connected to the desk lamp and plunged the room into darkness. With the loss of her night vision, Mila was now privy only to the blinking blue light on her charging cell phone. She closed her eyes and fell quickly into the deep sleep that can only be claimed by the dying and the truly exhausted.

Mila dreamed. It was disjointed and fast-paced. It was the Grand Prix Final in Barcelona, and she was receiving her bronze medal. Then she was a little girl, chasing a four-year old Yurotchka around on the ice of Champion Sports, their old ice rink. She saw her mother and father at the duck pond. Next, Vitya was teaching her how to do a double salchow. She fell and skinned her knee; the blood was bright on the white of the ice. She was learning alphan mimicry, and it made her soul so happy she wanted to cry. She was driving at night, and she was lost. A bend in the road came up a little too sharply as a deer jumped into her path. She swerved, banking off the railing and smashing through the side barrier! She was about to crash into a tree and… There was the Alpha she had presented under in Japan, stroking her face, trying to get her to stop sobbing. A lightning flash, and she heard Sara’s voice, “Honey, please… come back to me!”

She woke with a jolt, sitting bolt upright in bed. Sara grumbled and curled in on herself, cold now that the covers had been torn away. Mila dropped her face into her hands and took a few deep breaths. The nightmare was fading fast from her memory. Only bits and pieces were left, and even those would be gone if Mila could just concentrate on something else. She stripped off her sweat-slicked tee shirt and tossed it in the direction of her laundry basket. A glance at her nightstand revealed her phone glowing green, fully-charged. It had been hours since she’d fallen asleep then…

Mila’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness, so she made her way to the bathroom and washed her face. Her reflection looked eerie. The same as before, but so very different. Her eyes were sharp blue, even in the darkness. Mila could nearly count her eyelashes. It was so very strange…why was everything in such clear focus now? She carded her fingers through her hair and squeezed lightly at the crown, calming herself. She turned back to her bedroom, letting the water evaporate from her skin. Mila turned on the fan and donned a random shirt from her bureau before sliding carefully back into bed.

Sara reacted instinctively to Mila’s body warmth, scooting backward until she had pressed her lithe frame up against her bedmate, commandeering Mila’s arm as a pillow. Mila froze, unsure how to handle the situation. Cuddling was… okay, right? _It’s not like I’m going to do anything weird…_ She did sorely wish she’d dried off more thoroughly before Sara had sidled up to her, but now movement would probably disturb her, and that was no good.

Mila swallowed roughly and settled herself against Sara’s back, letting her arm fall loosely across the omega’s slim waist. When Sara didn’t stir, Mila curled herself over, wrapping her arm around Sara’s waist tightly and burying her face into the dark tresses littering her pillow. She curled her other arm a bit, letting it rise around Sara’s chest and hold on to her opposite shoulder. With a sigh of complete contentment, Mila schooled herself to fall back to sleep.

Sara smelled like papaya and vanilla. It was somehow exotic and comforting at the same time. Before she knew it, Mila was gently pressing her lips against the scent gland adorning Sara’s throat. She could vaguely remember mouthing feverishly at it during her… episode… but this was much nicer. She continued along Sara’s shoulder, kissing with a soft, closed-lipped mouth. Dropping them down on the fragile collar bone and then back up under her chin.

Sara let out a hum of pleasure, stretching her neck out to give easier access, and squeezed Mila’s arm around herself.

This wasn’t right. Mila knew it. She should let the girl sleep; that was the least she could do to repay the woman who helped save her life…

Sara mumbled something discontentedly when Mila paused her ministrations, arching backwards. _Now that’s just not fair…_

Giving up on sleep and on being a proper platonic bed mate, Mila cautiously shook Sara.

“Mhhhnnnnn…. Hmm? What is it, Michel?”

Mila froze, a frown developing on her face. _Michel?_ If Sara was a sweetworker, she shouldn’t have had a lover… Russia completely outlawed that. Was Japan different? Was it actually common place there? Mila had only spent two days in Japan for her presentation, so she really didn’t know the difference in customs.

“Ah... not quite,” she replied, dryly.

Sara shifted in her arms, turning over to face her bedmate. Mila loosened her embrace to ease the movement, letting her hands drag innocuously across Sara’s waist and back. God damn, her skin was soft.

“Oh… hey honey, I was so out of it, I forgot where I was.” Sara rubbed at an eye with a fist. “What time is it?”

“Late… or maybe early, by now. Can I kiss you?”

Well then. That was rather direct.

Sara squinted at her in the darkness. Then Mila saw the glow of bright white teeth as her lips bared into a feral grin.

“Just couldn’t wait to show me the real you, couldja?”

Mila vaguely remembered saying something like that while enveloped in the haze. “Is that a yes?”

Sara tilted her chin up in response and Mila took the invitation, but not quite the one Sara was probably offering.

She grazed her lips across the corner of Sara’s mouth, kissed her cheek and flitted along her jawline. Mila’s teeth tugged at Sara’s left ear lobe, eliciting a giggle, before she pressed her mouth to the temple nearby. Sara’s skin was warm beneath where Mila’s hands stroked her waist and shoulder. As she stretched to place a soft kiss to Sara’s forehead, she felt hands twist into her shirt, pulling them closer together, tugging her back down.

“Hmm?”

Lips pressed against her own, a hot tongue brushing neatly along the seam of her lips. Mila’s mouth opened automatically, and it delved inside to seek her own. And _fuck_ , did it feel good.

Mila had kissed dozens of people, mostly betas, and slept with a fair few, always betas… She only let herself interact with omegas during the very short, safest part of her cycle when she didn’t emit anything resembling omegian pheromones at all. Like recognized like, after all… Weirdly, Alphas weren’t all the great at telling if someone _wasn’t_ an Alpha, but Omegas sure as shit would notice that Mila’s body and pheromones matched their own. There had been several close calls before Mila figured out a system…. Betas never noticed anything, so Betas only, and even then: Never get too close. Never stay too long. Never with someone directly related to her profession or present in her daily life. Even though Mila would have preferred to not get involved with anyone even to such a minimal degree, she had a string of ex-lovers a mile long. One of the side effects of the alphan hormones she used was to send her libido through the roof, and annoyingly, she couldn’t seem to sate it on her own. Probably some sort of sadistic trade-off for skipping five years of heats.

She told them it was more satisfying to please her primary gender and that she had no interest in penetrating others… She typically slept with Beta men to avoid any issues, and not one had ever complained. Despite finding Omega femmes to be the most desirable, Mila had never once been to bed with one. Sara was quite literally the most attractive person to ever grace Mila’s bedroom.

Sara sucked Mila’s lower lip into her mouth, tongue dancing across it. A sharp gasp escaped from Mila’s mouth and she pressed forward, tightening her grip around the smaller woman. Her synthetic sex drive from the alphan hormone supplements had subsided, but the desperate need for this omega would have entirely eclipsed such artificial needs anyway. A niggling idea worked its way back into Mila’s mind from where she had banished in deep into the recesses of repression. Sara was only doing this because her sweetwork demanded it.  Mila growled low in her throat.

Sara stiffened. “Alpha?”

Mila pulled back and focused on the sharp lines of Sara’s cheekbones. On the faint line of light slashed across her olive-toned face as it escaped from between the curtains to betray the coming dawn. Her lips were parted slightly, head cocked, concern radiating from her eyes.

“Why are you here with me?” Mila didn’t need mimicry for things like this. Training since presentation had lowered the pitch of her voice, sewed dominance into her posture and body language. Things that had been abnormal to the little girl who had presented Omega, but felt completely natural to the alpha Mila had become. Her body may be Beta now, but all that meant was she had no idea what Sara was thinking. It heightened the physical sensations. Increased her rationality and sense of logic… and all of these things together spoke volumes. And missed the whole rest of the encyclopedia Britannica.

Sara stared at her, biting her lower lip. And then her she pressed her lips together; her shoulders shaking lightly. Mila frowned. Sara lost control and burst out laughing. She pushed Mila flat onto her back, flopping on top of her while wracked with giggles.

“What the hell?!”

“I’m so sorry, honey, just…. _That was so not Alpha_...” Attempting to keep herself from hyperventilating with mirth, Sara took a few deep breaths. Mila automatically stroked her back, confused and not just a little put-out at the accusation. Once Sara calmed herself, she settled onto her side next to Mila, head propped up with her elbow on the bed and a hand in her cascade of hair.

“I’m here, because I want to be here.” Sara smiled, eyes glittering with more suppressed laughter. “You want me here, don’t you?”

“Of course, I want you here… just you said you only stayed to watch over a patron and that doesn’t sit well with me.” Why not, eh? Why did Mila care so much all of a sudden? Here was this beautiful woman in her bed, kissing her, and she what? Wanted to make sure the omega didn’t feel put upon? Since when did Mila give a fuck?

The answer came just as she thought the question… Because this omega knew the truth and wanted her still.

Sara sobered. “Ah… I’m sorry. You must be super confused right now, huh? Since your body is basically Beta?”

Mila narrowed her eyes and waited.

“You can’t feel anything from me, huh?”  A bloom of papaya and vanilla filled the air, and Mila inhaled deeply, feeling the automatic calm seep into her bones and sinew.

Sara edged closer. “I’m here, because… I like you.” A bit of nervousness actually tinged the sweet’s voice, as though she didn’t have a great deal of practice verbally expressing her emotions. “I’m with you, because I want you. It’s not like I’m being paid or something…” She glanced down and smoothed non-existent wrinkles from Mila’s shirt.

Mila didn’t really get past processing the first sentence. “How can you like me? You hardly know me.”

Sara shrugged, now picking off imaginary lint. “Do you like me?”

“Yes.” The word popped out instantly.

“Then there ya go.”

Mila frowned, considering. Then she tilted Sara’s chin up to let their eyes meet. “And you…want me?”

Sara nodded and shrugged again, clearly out of her element.

Mila didn’t want Sara to be uncomfortable. She should be doing everything she could to keep the girl happy and more importantly _here_. Mila did like her. She was curious and clever and just a little snarky. She was beautiful and caring and spontaneous… Mila realized she hadn’t just been joking on the phone earlier… she really did want to keep Sara. On top of all things… Sara was the first omega who knew Mila was transdynamic and accepted her as Alpha. Even if Mila hadn’t felt the strange, strong pull toward the woman earlier, this opportunity to acquire a mate was simply too rare to pass up.

Mind made up, Mila changed the subject to more innocuous things. “Why are you in St. Petersburg? I imagine we’re speaking English because you’re from not from here.”

“Oh, I’m on vacation!” Excitement began to bubble up, breaking through Sara’s anxiety. She was an easily distracted one, this girl, Mila mused.

“You’re on vacation? As an omega?”

“Mmm, technically, I’m supposed to be with Izzy-sensei the whole time I’m out of the country, but seeing as you’re Alpha, I’m sure it’s okay. It’s okay, right?”

Mila assured her it was just fine. It probably was… not that Mila was up-to-date on Russian laws regarding foreign Omega travel, but ehhh…. Whatever.

Sara went on; words tumbling over themselves to get out of her mouth and reach Mila.  “I’m from Japan, well, Italy originally, but now Hasetsu, Japan. Yutopia Sugarhouse, actually. That’s where your friend, Mr. Plisetsky, presented under my then Highest Tier and his now mate.”

“Tell me about Italy.” Mila had heard quite enough about Yutopia from Yurotchka already.

Sara paled noticeably and shifted away, creating space between the two women. “I, umm, was born there. With my twin brother, Michele.” Her voice took on a stilted, jumpy quality. _Curious… Why does she sound like that?_

“Oh, Michele is your sibling, I see. You said his name when you woke up.” Mila felt a bit of relief flow through her.

Sara nodded, glancing back up at Mila from where she had rooted her eyes to the bedspread. “Have you always lived in Russia? Is such beautiful hair color common?” She reached out to finger Mila’s red locks, gliding her fingertips across Mila’s cheeks to reach it. It was a clumsy change of topic. No finesse what-so-ever.

_She’s using physicality to distract me? Why? Not that I mind…_

“Yes, I was born in another city, though.” Mila tilted her head into Sara’s hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. “You don’t want to tell me about your time before sweetwork?”

“There was no time before sweetwork.” Sara pulled her hand back and rose from the bed, now looking everywhere but at Mila’s face. “Can we make tea? I’d like to have tea.” She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering, and moved to hover next to the closed door.

Mila slid out of the bed and followed Sara. She took one Sara’s elegant hands and raised it to her lips to kiss the knuckles. Hopeful, violet eyes shone above a slowly forming smile. At least, Mila thought they looked hopeful. She couldn’t feel a single damn emotion.

Giving the hand a little tug, Mila pulled Sara to herself and folded her pale limbs around the lithe figure. She tilted her head down to murmur directly against Sara’s ear.

“Come back to bed, Sara. We won’t talk anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too much excitement in this chapter... We needed a little bit of downtime, I think. I was going to write in an explicit scene for the ladies, but it just wouldn't write for me. At least, not how I wanted it to be. In the end, I figured Sara and Mila would like their privacy and decided to leave the details up to your imaginations.
> 
> Things are going to start getting particularly interesting as we head toward the climax of this fic. Get excited!


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Phichit and Seung Gil's night together.  
> A scrap of Guang/Leo stupid fluff.  
> Our trio head back to the rink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay yay a chapter!  
> Listen to On Love: Agape when Yurio skates! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AWJ-nH0apSg

Morning came for Seung Gil with a haze of confusion. He grumbled to himself and buried his face in the warm shoulder of the body next to him. Said body hummed lightly in a pleased response. Seung Gil blinked open his eyes, blearily squinting at his unfamiliar surroundings before it clicked. Yutopia… He hadn’t gone home last night after… The memories snapped back in to place. The dance. The sex. The mark. The. Mark. He’d unintentionally marked Phichit. He didn’t even remember actually doing it, just the utter satisfaction mixed simultaneously with sheer terror. Yes, he’d studied the requirements a thousand times, but that didn’t mean he should have done it instinctually. It made no sense. It especially made no sense considering his dynamic. Betas did not mark others without concise deliberation and determined effort. They literally did not have the neurotransmitters to link to the primal knowledge center. There was evidence. _He_  had found that evidence.

And yet, there it was. The bold red of the healing mark bitten into the left side of Phichit’s throat. His head was even tipped to the right, as if he were showing it off. Proud even while unconscious. What in all nine hells was going on? Anxiety was rising up in Seung Gil the likes of which he’d never felt before. Not when running from the cops. Not when learning of his brother’s omegian dynamic. He had to get away. Get somewhere else and think.

Seung Gil looked down at Phichit’s full, dark lips. They were gently parted, a quiet whistling noise expressing itself on the occasional exhale. He was so beautiful. Seung Gil didn’t want to leave him alone, but there was just no way he could clear his head and figure this out with that decadent scent in his nose.

Shaking himself, Seung Gil slipped out of the bed and gathered his clothes from their pile by the door. He stepped into his pants and slung on his shirt. Some of the buttons had been ripped off the night before, so he just did the best he could. With a final, lingering look at the sleeping omega, Seung Gil escaped into the hallway.

Katsuki’s sister, otherwise known in Seung Gil’s head as “Not-Yuko” due to how rarely he saw her, was manning the front desk. She looked up from her paperwork and smirked as Seung Gil approached, eyeing his partially buttoned shirt.

“Have fun, did you?”

Seung Gil scowled and folded his fingertips over the edge of the desk in the patented “I’d like to pay now” posture.

Mari chuckled and clicked a few keys on her computer before printing out a receipt. Then she whistled approvingly. “You, sir, got quite a deal.” She folded it down the center with practiced ease to get it to lie flat and settled a pen in the crevice. “Someday, you’ll have to tell me how you managed to get Peach to cover your expenses… he’s typically the biggest extortionist we have, but I’ve never seen him use those skills against the House.”

Seung Gil glared at her... He really didn’t have time for this. While signing, he glanced over the paper to see how much he was actually paying and promptly dropped the pen, letting it clatter to the floor.

Mari laughed out loud and held out another one. “Yeah. See what I mean? I didn’t even know we offered all of those discounts and rebates. It’s nuts. I’ve never seen someone game the system quite so well.”

Seung Gil picked up the receipt and began to read from the top… his name, the date, the time-damn it was only 7 in the morning?- and then…

 

 

> DAY PRIVATE ROOM FEE      $150  
>  FULL DAY COMPANY           $200  
>    HT PEACH SUPPLEMENT     $300  
>  EVENING ENTRANCE FEE      $30  
>  EVENING COMPANY: $0 - NONE  
>  PERSONAL STAGE-DANCE    $100  
>     HT PEACH SUPPLEMENT    $100  
>  ALC BEV                               $8  
>  ALC BEV                               $8  
>  NIGHT PRIVATE ROOM FEE   $200  
>  FULL NIGHT COMPANY         $400  
>    HT PEACH SUPPLEMENT      $100  
>                               TOTAL:    $2396
> 
> //PAYMENT/STAGE HELP    – $100  
>  //DCT FAM/FRIENDS          – 20%  
>  //DCT HT FAVORITE           – 20%  
>  //DCT 15A-727                 – 15%  
>  //DCT PEACH-MAX            – 10%  
>  //DCT LOCAL                     – 10%  
>  //DCT FREE DRINK             – $8  
>  //SUPP COVER (PC)             – $1000
> 
>                              SUM:        $47.77  
>                               TAX 10%: $4.78  
>                               TOTAL:     $52.55

 “How did… how did he even do this?” Seung Gil scrawled his name on the line and traded the pen for his credit card and license.

Mari handed over a copy of the ridiculously annotated receipt and filed the original in her drawer. “I think the better question is why. How is easy: Peach included the correct codes to counter your fees, including giving up his own supplements, it seems. Although I noticed he did both charge you and pay you for a dance….”

That little brat… How humorous… Oh, how droll. Seung Gil actually found himself smiling.

“Thank you for your patronage; please visit again soon, Beta.” Mari’s brown hair fell around her face as she bent in a formal bow.

Seung Gil thanked her. He didn’t even bother to the correct her for calling him by his dynamic, he felt so warm inside.

Despite the uneventful drive, Seung Gil found himself parking in front of his office rather than his home. Well, that was where he spent most of his time thinking, but he’d intended to go home and change first. Regardless, he locked his car door and took the cement steps up to the entrance two at a time. He unlocked the door to his lab and reveled in the clean, sterile scent that submerged him as he stepped inside. This was where he felt safe. An analytical place rooted in research and knowledge.

He plopped into his desk chair, ripping off his ruined shirt and tossing it into the trashcan. Now. Where to start?

Everything Seung Gil had known, unearthed, pieced together, and published was clear about this subject: Betas did not have primal instinct for marking. And yet…

He needed to pull back. Look at the full situation. What was different about this encounter than any other?

He had felt drawn to Phichit, but that wasn’t particularly unusual excepting that the sweet was Omega.

The connection had been all but instant, far more rapid than anything Seung Gil typically experienced. He was usually what the greater population called demisexual, needing a deep emotional connection to develop sexual interest in others. It was why he continued his relationship with Izzy… annoyingly he still loved her, so he still found her attractive. The label didn’t fit him perfectly… he still had sex with people even if he didn’t always find himself lusting after them, but either way, it usually took him a while to open up and get to that stage.

And yet… he’d known the sweet for what? Days? Hours? Not only had he slept with Phichit, topped for the first time, let himself be put in the spotlight of a stage performance, and spent the night in the omega’s arms, he wanted to go back there immediately. Wrap himself up in those lean, caramel limbs and bask in the sumptuous aroma that was uniquely Phichit. He actually kind of, maybe, sort of, wanted Phichit’s mark on his neck. He didn’t want to be bitten; it was going to hurt like fuck, but he wanted it to be on his skin all the same. Weird. So weird.

And the _trust_ that he had felt. He hadn’t even worried about the fees after Phichit had said he’d take care of them, despite how important it was to send money to his family. Worse still, Seung Gil had completely forgotten them until he saw ~~Not-Yuko~~ Mari standing in front of the desk.

On the other side, it looked like Phichit was having a similar response… Mari said he’d never done his magic fee-disappearing act for anyone else. He said he’d like bearing Seung Gil’s mark… What was it he’d said, specifically? “Feels like I’m yours.”

Yours… As in mate. As in _mine_. The idea sent a tingling through Seung Gil’s chest that spread down his arms and all the way out to his fingertips. Christ, he wanted that. But why did he want it so much? These feelings of possession… of dominance… of need… They were so strange. Seung Gil knew for a fact that they were out of the ordinary. He had previously analyzed his mind so well that he could almost see the thoughts in a different color than the rest of them. As if the words scrolling through his mind were underlined and in bold. All capital letters and italicized font. They were abnormal. They were desperate. They were…

He bolted upright, knocking the chair to the floor and scrambling over to his lab bench. Keeping his hands from shaking was difficult, but he managed to collect the supplies needed to pull a blood sample and went through the motions on rote muscle memory. The tourniquet went on. Alcohol swab to the antecubital space. Clean syringe empty. Cap off. Needle in. Tourniquet off. Blood out. Cotton ball. Paper tape. He left the trash where it was on the counter- fuck biohazards protocol, he’d clean it up later.

Seung Gil ripped open a cabinet and pulled out a test tube tray. Never before was he so happy about his own meticulous need to clean all glassware immediately after use. He injected his blood into a tube and set it and a counter weight water sample into the centrifuge, configured it to the maximum speed that wouldn’t rupture the cells, and watched anxiously as it began spin down.

His thoughts were still jumbled, but clarity was beginning to shine through. That haziness he’d felt in his head this morning. His body felt different. He hadn’t had enough to sleep, but he was more awake then he’d felt in his life. Energetic.

He paced back and forth in the lab before finally approaching his bookshelves and selecting a volume: Unproven Dynamic Theories: A Compilation by Kaiou Michiru. This was so stupid. Seung Gil couldn’t believe he was even considering this possibility, but he read through the table of contents to find what he was looking for and flipped to page 127.

Seung Gil laid the book on the table and read rapidly. Kaiou-san’s book was primarily objective; that was the only reason Seung Gil owned it. It hardly speculated on the theories, but instead pointed out flaws or gaps in evidence. The particular one Seung Gil was reading was a description of case studies with very little scientific merit. It was a romantic fantasy born of speculation and day time sitcoms. So useless did he consider it, he had actually skipped the short chapter entirely some years back when the text joined his collection.

“Fated Mates.” The source began.

 

> There has long been a legend regarding the so-called “fated mates” or “fated pairs.” Some individuals (primarily Alphas and Omegas, as expected) refuse to bond for most of their lives under the impression that they will meet the person with whom they are destined spend that life. It is said that upon first coming into contact with this person, it feels as though the stars have aligned. “They will just know…” is a comment often heard from proponents of the theory.
> 
> Regardless of the piddling of case studies and rampant, zealous discussion, there is no solid, evidence-based research providing any substance to this theory. There is no biological disposition that would suggest that there is one “perfect match” for any one person. This theory lends itself well to the “love at first sight” often described by would-be romantics and may well be related to neurotransmitter and hormone release related to sexual attraction.
> 
> Delving deeper into the details of the theory, proponents report feeling “changed” or “different” after meeting their fated mate.
> 
> The theory is called into possibility by a single case study with little credibility: two individuals (A + Ω) were mated for seven years before the omega met an individual (Beta) and reported she was his fated mate. The omega left his Alpha without the expected withdrawal effects, reporting he “had changed and was no longer suited for [his] Alpha.”  He had his marks subsequently replaced by his new Beta mate. The alpha on the other hand, did suffer the withdrawal effects, but strangely his marks dulled down in an extremely unusual manner. The newly mate-bonded couple were extraordinarily well-suited for each other and appeared to have a bond just as strong as any A/Ω despite being Ω/B.
> 
> This author finds this case study to either be an anomaly or a tall tale. Either way, public opinion and hopeful wishes keep this theory alive, and thus it was included in this compilation for the sake of completeness.

Seung Gil let the book fall closed and retrieved his separated blood from the centrifuge. He pulled his sample and set a Northern Blot gel to run, then he diluted another sample and injected into his mass spectrometer. Tapping his foot, Seung Gil glared at the machine as though it would increase the processing speed. It didn’t help. In fact, the damn thing may have taken longer just to spite him. Soon, however, a reading printed and Seung Gil tore it off with such haste he left half on the printer. Scowling, he snatched the other half and sat at his desk to tape the pieces back together.

He pulled a pen from the rainbow parrot-shaped mug on his desk (Izzy painted it at one of those paint-your-own-ceramics shops) and translated the peaks and dots into their corresponding components. Then he set down the writing utensil and stared at slip of paper.

It was clear as day. There could be no mistake. The mass spec had been just cleaned, so there was no chance of contamination. Seung Gil knew the peak placements like the back of his own hand, and he had made no errors. Terror and confusion mixed with the sheer all-encompassing joy of discovery as Seung Gil realized exactly what the reading described. He was manifesting alphan hormones. It didn’t look like much, just a very small peak, but it was there. More than a beta should ever be able to produce. Certainly not a Beta-O. Not only that, there was an anomaly in his blood. The machine didn’t have a match, so it couldn’t tell him what it was.

Seung Gil put a hand to his mouth, stunned. If there was any truth to the Fated Mate Theory, this was it. _He_ was it. No, they were it: Phichit and him.

Was this what had happened to Yuri Plisetsky? No… that was different. If Katsuki had been his mate then he wouldn’t have switched to the same dynamic as the sweet. That wouldn’t have made any sense. And the “tri-bond” still had no explanation.

This was all too much. The gel would take hours to run, and he didn’t want to move forward until he had those results. In the meantime, he needed to do some research on if any relevant studies were ongoing or had been published. And he needed to think about what he was going to tell Phichit so he didn’t sound insane. Phichit wasn’t much of a romantic, he was unlikely to believe the hype about the theory. Seung Gil’s mind bubbled over with to-do lists and protocols and new ideas. He needed to call Izzy and get her input…

There was no fucking way he was calling Izzy. He would call an old colleague instead… Armin Alert… He was a specialist on Beta Dynamics. If anyone knew of a Beta manifesting alphan or omegian hormones, then it would be him.

Nearly feverish with excitement, Seung Gil grabbed his phone from his desk and scrolled through his contacts for Dr. Alert.

* * *

Phichit woke up and stretched his arms up above his head, arching his back and letting out a wide yawn. “Guh Mor—ing,” he attempted to say through his stretched mouth, reaching to the other side of the bed. It was cold. Phichit patted around a bit before grumpily opening his eyes and rolling to see why Gil was so far away. There was no one there. The bed was empty save one very perturbed Thai sweetworker.

“That son of a bitch…” He could have at least left a damn note.

Phichit ripped the covers off and hurled himself out of bed. He opened his drawer in the dresser (the others belonged to Michel and Guang-chan) and yanked out the first set of clothes he found. Tromping into the bathroom, Phichit hopping into briefs and jeans and pulled on a white tee shirt before rummaging around for a brush. He attempted said object for its obvious use, but he couldn’t even get it into his hair, let alone out.

Sighing, Phichit, fished around for a comb and some detangler, setting to work through the knots. It took a good five minutes and looked much like a terrified pufferfish by the end: fluffed up and unable to calm down. The sentiment suited Phichit just fine, but the look not so much. He brushed his teeth, washed his face, and slicked his hair back with water. This, too, failed to make an impression on the heavily tormented locks.

Annoyed but even more impatient, he pulled a black beanie out of the closet and tugged it onto his head, stepped into shoes, and left the room.

The red door into the club was open, and Phichit stomped over to the bar. Levi was restocking.

“Shot of whiskey, please, Captain.”

Levi didn’t even turn around. “It’s hardly noon; fuck off.”

Phichit rolled his eyes. Figured.

“You’d do best not to make that face,” Levi said tonelessly as he moved beer from a cooler to the low set refrigerators.

“What, is it gonna get stuck that way, Mom?” Phichit was feeling particularly antagonistic this afternoon.

“I’ll personally see that it does, if I have to cut off your head to do it. Don’t show me such blatant disrespect.”

Phichit felt some of the rage filter out of him as it was replaced by the eerie feeling of imminent danger he often felt around Levi. He muttered an apology and scurried away, approaching his favorite couch, currently inhabited by Leo and Guang-chan. They were cuddled together, Leo’s legs spread wide and Guang sitting between them and leaning back on his chest. They were sharing a pair of ear buds and chuckling at some video on Leo’s phone.

The both looked up at him as Phichit approached, and Guang pulled the buds from their ears.

“So looks like you found someone to play with last night,” Leo noted, waggling a finger at Phichit’s throat. Guang elbowed him in the ribs and he winced.

Phichit covered the mark with his palm and squeezed. Right… that. It wasn’t rare for him to be sporting patron’s mark, but he usually covered it the next day. Today, however, he’d been working so hard to ignore it that he’d forgotten to put on a patch. At least the fact that it was a beta’s mark meant he didn’t have any throbbing urge to lay his own teeth in the culprit or have to take any meds to deal with that particular effect.

“What happened? You look like you’re going to kill someone, Peachy.” Guang reached out a hand to encourage Phichit to sit next to him. Phichit took it and settled himself on the edge of the couch. He was too agitated to relax. You’d think he’d have gotten over this kind of thing by now. Patrons leave. Patrons do not stay until their… no. Patrons do not stay until _a_ sweetworker wakes up, meet the co-workers, and then go get brunch.

So Seung Gil left. Whatever. He was just another patron who wanted a fuck and was out before dawn. So what if they had actually spent time together outside of Yutopia? Who cared if Phichit had never felt so intimate during sex with another person? He’d gotten used. Again. And this time he hadn’t even gotten paid for it. He was so stupid.

Phichit braced his elbows on his knees and curled over, dropping his face into his hands.

“Hey…?” A hand started rubbing circles on his back. “You okay?”

No. Phichit was most definitely not okay. His mask was broken, and he couldn’t summon the energy to fashion a new one and cement it in place.  His chest hurt. He had thought maybe, just maybe, Seung Gil actually liked him. Adorable, brilliant, compassionate… Phichit liked Seung Gil, and therein lay the problem. Sweetworkers were not supposed to get attached to patrons who came and went as their rut cycles suited.

And that was just it: Seung Gil didn’t have a cycle. He was Beta – a prerequisite for any mate Phichit would even think about considering. Gil didn’t have ruts, and he didn’t need sweets. Unless Phichit had been very much mistaken (and he was never wrong about people’s motives,) he had wanted to be with Phichit despite the whole sweetworker stigma.

Phichit let out a groan and began mumbling into his hands. “Stupidstupidstupidstupid…"

“Are we doing tongue-twisters or am I missing something? Speaking of, you seem to be missing your boyfriend. Where did he get to?” Leo continued lounging comfortably on the couch. Completely unconcerned by the murderous rage Phichit was beginning to emit.

“Not. My. Boyfriend.”

“Ah…” Guang Hong answered. “I now grok this situation.”

Phichit raised his head and stared at his friend. “What the fuck does that word mean?”

Leo shook his head with a huff of amusement and ruffled Guang Hong’s hair. “Guang has decided to improve his vocabulary… with the most ridiculous and obsolete words he can find.”

Guang-chan ignored his living chair. “I mean I get it now. He left, and you’re pissed.” Leo nodded sympathetically and stroked Guang’s shoulders.

“I am _not_ pissed.”

“Indignant? Choleric? Splenetic? Nettled?”

“ _Guang_ ….” Leo chastised.

The red door burst open and a blur of dark hair and pale skin came windmilling through. Seung Gil stumbled over the floor, looking around wildly until his eyes set upon Phichit. Utter relief melted his rigid expression, and he slowed, bending over and holding his knees while he caught his breath.

“He’s totally your boyfriend.”

Leo hushed Guang Hong.

Phichit frowned. What was Gil doing back here? He had been all set to spend the day angrily moping about his lot in life, and now he was going to be interrupted by the very person he was planning on angrily moping about. The asshole should make up his mind.

He got up and stalked over to said asshole.

“Thanks for saying good bye this morning. It really made me feel good about myself.”

Seung Gil looked up, still breathing rather hard, and Phichit had a front row seat to the look of utter shame that developed on his face. “Fuck.”

“Fuck is right. What do you want?”

Seung Gil sighed and carded the fingers of both hands through his hair, squeezing tight at the scalp before letting go. “I’m sorry I left this morning. I kind of freaked out.”

“I know the feeling,” Phichit answered dryly. Glee was beginning to bubble inside of him. _He came back! He came back!_ Perhaps Phichit hadn’t been wrong or stupid. Maybe just impatient. “Come on. Let’s go back to the room, and you can tell me what had you so messed up you couldn’t leave a note.”

Seung Gil nodded, and Phichit walked past him toward the door; he didn’t look back to make sure the other man was following him. When he stopped in front of the door to Room 7, Seung Gil walked right into him, lost in thought.

“Gil, come on, keep it together.”

Seung Gil shook himself. Phichit opened the door and ventured inside. It hadn’t been long and the de-scenters hadn’t been by yet, so the room still smelled like Peach and sex. He paid it no mind. It was the norm, honestly. In fact, it was actually pretty unusual for his room to _not_ smell like sex.

He settled himself on the edge of the bed and patted the space next to him. “Come talk to me. You’re back, so I guess I can’t be that mad at you.”

Seung Gil sat down next to Phichit as one would approach a wild tiger who specifically enjoyed feasting on Korean betas.

“Relax, Gil; I’m not going to bite.”

Seung Gil muttered something… “That’s what I’m afraid of…”

Phichit raised an eyebrow, not quite hearing the comment and being confused about what he did hear. He reached out a hand and caressed the back Seung Gil’s neck, squeezing gently to try to relieve the tension he could see had settled there.

“You’re being pretty unnerving. Tell me what’s going on.”

Seung Gil nodded again, looking at the floor while simultaneously trying to lean back against Phichit’s hand.

It took him a few minutes to collect himself, and Phichit tried to be patient, proving yet again that it wasn’t his strong suit. Finally, after a few tense moments that felt like hours, Seung Gil let out a frustrated groan and turned to bury his face against Phichit’s throat and wrap his arms around the sweet. Phichit smiled and stretched his neck out to allow better access, slinging his arms around Gil’s back.

“I freaked out about this…” Gil said and placed a soft kiss against Phichit’s scent gland. It sent a tingle through the sweet’s body. “I marked you. I don’t know how or when I did it, and I didn’t even ask you for your consent. I know I apologized last night and you said it was all right, but the whole thing sent me spiraling out.”

“Pfft… that’s it? You flipped because you bit me?” Phichit started to laugh, but when Seung Gil raised his head and looked at him with nervous, intrepid eyes, he bit it back. “It’s just a mark. It’ll fade.”

Seung Gil muttered something again.

“Would you stop doing that? I can’t hear you.” Phichit gathered Seung Gil against him and pulled them both back onto the bed. He hadn’t made it after getting up this morning, and frankly, he didn’t care one wit about getting the sheets even dirtier than they already were. Housekeeping would clean them before Yutopia opened that evening anyway.

Gil let himself be moved and sighed. He was beginning to sound like a day-time soap star. He swallowed and visibly braced himself, gritting his teeth. “I said I don’t want it to fade.” He glared at Phichit as thought this sentiment was entirely his fault.

“You can’t possibly expect me to keep your mark and see patrons regularly. I do have to work, you know.” Phichit felt an inkling of discontent as he gave his reply. It concerned him, but he ignored it. Probably just indigestion.

“Phichit, listen.”

“Yes, sir?”

Gil’s mouth twisted, but he refused to rise to the bait. “This morning after I did my stupid freak out and run away thing, I went back to the lab to think; I ended up running some tests.”

“Oh? That’s pretty exciting. Figure anything out?” Seung Gil loved his research. It made him brighten up like nothing else, but he wasn’t perking up now. He was watching Phichit with trepidation.

“I think…” Gil took a deep breath. “No, I know. You’re my matched mate.”

“I’m your who-said-what now?”

“We’re matched mates. You won’t have heard it before, because I just named it. You’ve probably heard of fated mates, though, right?”

“Yeah… I heard it’s probably bullshit from crazy fantasy stories, too.”

“You’re not wrong… I don’t think there’s exactly one special soul mate for everyone… but I do think that there are certain hormonal levels that match so well that they encourage one person to actually adjust to suit the other even better… And I have a hunch that those who can adjust for their matched mates are typically Betas.”

Phichit tried to figure out what the hell this lunatic was talking about.

“What the hell are you going on about, Gil?”

“You’re my matched mate. I want you. My body seems to be physically changing for you.”

Phichit froze. “Changing… changing into what? I liked you as you were.”

Seung Gil quirked an eyebrow. “But I’m a beta… and on the omegian spectrum even…”

Phichit scowled. “You think I care about something as shallow as that? I watched the alpha-omega bond turn my father into a slave. A husk of his former self! I don’t need that, and I don’t want it!” He paused and turned back. “Wait, it this your way of saying that _you_ want that? Because if you do, just spit it out. Apparently you’re going to be Alpha now, because we’re magical mates or whatever…”

Seung Gil shook his head, his eyes gentle. “Matched mates.” Then he took hold of Phichit’s upper arms and squeezed lightly. “I asked because I once loved someone who found such things very important.”

“Yeah, well I don’t,” Phichit declared. “I just want you as you were. You don’t need to go changing your hormonal patterns or pheromones or whatever. I liked your dynamic the way it was.” He squashed down his inner omega who was currently prancing around with delight at the idea that its mate might be Alpha. Obnoxious thing.

Seung Gil looked up, his face displaying helpless vulnerability. “I don’t know how to make it go back, and I don’t know if it’s going to keep going forward… I just know that my body is trying to give you what it thinks you need, and I don’t have any control over it.”

“Do you love me?”  Phichit asked curiously. “Is that why you’re changing like this? Because I can back off. I feel that strong connection you talked about, but we can just not see each other anymore. It’ll fade then, right?”

Seung Gil stared at him. All sad eyes and furrowed eyebrows. “I don’t want it to…” ~~~~

Phichit watched Gil fold in on himself. He didn’t want an alpha. He was absolutely certain. But did he want Seung Gil? He did… Gil wasn’t like his mother, and maybe he could stop thinking about it that way. There was hardly a change in his scent, but if Phichit smelled very carefully, pepper came from Gil in addition to the soft, scent of clean laundry. It wasn’t strong and all-encompassing like typical alphas.

Gil grabbed Phichit’s hands. “The mark isn’t that important to me. But you are. I want to see where this goes.”

“I’m not giving up my job…”

“I’m not asking you to.”

A happy squeal came from the couch. Phichit and Seung Gil turned to see Guang Hong with his fists balled up under his chin, bouncing happily on Leo’s lap.

“I _told_ you he was your boyfriend!”

* * *

“Yuuri, with all the going-ons, I completely forgot. I found a job for you.”

Victor and his mates were sprawled on the couch, Yuuri snuggled in the middle, and Yura laid out on his stomach with his head cushioned in Yuuri’s lap. After crashing for the night, they were taking Yakov’s suggestion to heart and using the morning to relax and sort themselves out.

”Wait, Yuuri’s going to work? I thought he might like to… have kids or something.” Yura glanced away toward the ground with coloring cheeks.

Yuuri’s neck snapped down to look at his younger mate. “What? No, I do not want to have kids “or something” right now.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “What made you think that?”

“Well, I---” Yura made to reply but apparently no answer was actually desired. Yuuri’s verbal tirade was a landslide that could not be paused.

“Considering you presented all of what? Five minutes ago? Don’t you think we should take some time for you to gain experience as an adult before we bring a child into the world? Not to mention, we have no idea how your adjustable dynamic or our whack-job triple bond will affect our offspring’s genes. Speaking of, will she even be your child, or will she be Victor’s? Are you mature enough to handle being the father to a child that’s not of your blood?” Yuuri waved his hands in the air, jostling Yura enough that he sat up from his position.  “And talk about poor timing! Am I going to be caring for her on my own while you train with Victor all the time since you’re at the height of your career? What do you even think----” Yuuri was really on a roll.

Yura scooted away to the end of the couch, his hands held up in surrender against Yuuri’s onslaught.

Victor made a desperate attempt to interrupt the ensuing rampage: “Yuuri, would you like to teach figure skating lessons to children at Yubliyeny?”

Yuuri’s voice stopped on a dime, and he slowly turned back to show Victor big, hopeful eyes. “Really? Like as an assistant to an alpha or beta?”

Victor watched over Yuuri’s shoulder as Yura put his palms together into a praying position and mouthed “THANK YOU!”

“No, I think you’ll be able to manage it by yourself. Omegas don’t have nearly enough career options in this country, but most childhood education is taught by your dynamic.” Victor tapped his chin in consideration.  “I suppose it matches up with the common stereotypical notion that all omegas are gentle and nurturing. It’s a bit of a stretch to consider ice skating a compulsory education, but with Yakov, Yura, and myself standing behind the decision, I doubt anyone will contest it.”

Yuuri swallowed. He raised his hands in front of himself and bounced them, seemingly unsure what to do with them. His mouth opened and closed several times.

 Victor was about to ask if everything was all right when his mate flew forward and barreled into him, squeezing him tight around the stomach and burying his face against his chest.

“Thank you. Thank you, Victor!!” The words were muffled spoken into Victor’s pale blue sweater, but enthusiasm came through loud and clear.

Victor chuckled and returned the embrace, dropping his cheek against Yuuri’s hair. “You owe me,” he mouthed at Yura and received a scoff in response.

“Then we ought to get to the rink,” Yura suggested, rising from couch and fleeing the scene. Sometimes the boy really could be wise. It just didn’t balance out with the plethora of stupid decisions he tended to make. Eh… teenagers, Victor supposed, deserved at least a little lee-way.

The drive to Yublieney was uneventful and the three mates arrived shortly after noon. Victor sent Yura to warm up and took Yuuri to Yakov’s office to fill out paper work for his new position.

Victor leaned back against the closed door and watched Yuuri initial his way through a contract. He could feel glee coming through the bond in waves, warming the nip in the air. Yakov always did keep his office cold.

“Yakov, when will he start?”

The older man looked up from guiding Yuuri through his new contract. “Actually, seems one of our usual instructors had to call in for her afternoon class today. The rink usually has new instructors shadow at first, but considering this is the youngest class, they’re still learning to stay up on their feet.” He smirked down at Yuuri. “Can you manage it?

Yuuri scribbled his name at the bottom of the contract and grinned up at the alphas. “I like to think so.”

* * *

Yuri was standing on fresh ice. The Zamboni had just cleaned the rink, melting away the remnants of cursive spirals and spins and the nicks and gouges of jumps and hockey stops. Most of the skaters were still chatting at the side boards, and Yuri was using the rare opportunity of quiet to think about his blasted program. Agape. Unconditional love. Whatever that meant.

Unfortunately, he kept getting distracted by memories of Dedka’s cold hands. Uliana’s crying face. Mila covered in blood. Yuuri curled in Victor’s lap, overwhelmed. He shook his head and sighed, deciding to just run the program once to get back into it. Yuri raised a hand and signaled Georgi to start his music, falling into the relaxed pose that prefaced his program.

Moments later, the familiar, lilting notes sprung forth, and muscle memory had Yuri throwing his left arm into the air and then stroking his palm down along his cheek. Had him turning, throwing both arms back and sweeping forward wings instead. He drew the wingtips together, gliding them across his cheek as if pillowing his face for sleep, an illusion of soft feathers tickling his skin.

An easy turn, looking to the sky with crossed wings to build tension, gliding on a right backward outside edge for momentum and then easing into the entrance for his triple axel. The jump took off too fast, and he landed hard, struggling for balance and cursing himself to pay attention. That definitely hadn’t happened in a while… not on that jump. Yuri decided to actually take Vitya’s instruction to skim his jumps until he was back up to par. The idea irked him, but the man was his coach… Hopefully, he wasn’t watching.

Without really noticing, Yuri reached the point in the program where his wings momentarily turned back to hands and he dropped his face into them as the music rose. It was just a little drama, drawing the audience into the song, but this time, it was different. This time, a sudden urge to collapse came on so strong that he had to wrench his face from hands and throw himself backward. _What was that?_

Counter. Three turn. Posture. He went into the step sequence breathing hard and aching in confusion. He just needed to follow the choreography. _I’m being so sloppy. Dedka_ _would be disappointed if he were watching me right now._ The ache morphed into a stab of pain.   _Fuck, I miss him. I loved that man so much._

Flying sit spin.

Yuri swung into his spin front-heavy, shakily adjusting to maintain his balance. He flowed through the different poses, barely paying attention to the technique. His body knew the movements; he didn’t need to concentrate on them, and he couldn’t if he tried. His thoughts were full of memories of his grandfather, and the love that had all but drenched Yuri daily. It had been strong, incredibly powerful, and no matter what Yuri did, not matter how he fucked up, got in trouble, and was a little shithead, the amount of love didn’t change. Resultantly, Yuri had felt safe and secure. Confident in that unconditional love that would never fade. Agape. Unwavering, impenetrable love and faith. Yuri had become rooted in it, growing trunk and branches, leaves and flowers soaring to the sky. Its nutrients were the perfect formula for a growing child.

Triple salchow. Double toe loop.

So why hadn’t Yuri been able to identify the Agape in his grandfather’s love before now? It was so much more than his mother had ever given him. _Stop. Don’t think about her._

Right forward inside twizzles.

Yuri had spent hours scouring Google for the right explanation of Agape that would click with him. Unconditional love was supposed to be the definition of God’s love for his children, and likewise the love a parent had for her child. A mother should have Agape for her son. She shouldn’t leave him at her own father’s doorstep and never look back.

Triple toe loop. It came out viciously high, expecting another full turn, and the landing cut a deep swath in the ice.

Yuri wasn’t particularly religious; so all this time, he had been trying to find the Agape from his mother that didn’t exist. He would never find it there, because she hadn’t loved him. It had been Dedka and Babka, always, who cradled him in their arms and raised him to adulthood with the ferocious love of a bear standing between her cub and a hunter.

He had been wrong.

Yuri threw his head back, and with the motion he released despair of true understanding into the world.

Kick step into the step sequence.

Agape wasn’t weak. Rather, it was the greatest of loves. Love without expecting anything in return. It was to accept weakness. It was trust and desperation and knowing that someone had resolute power over him, and that he had given it willingly. Agape was need so strong that someone would give all of himself for it. Agape was consenting to vulnerability. To valuing someone else’s happiness just as or even more strongly than his own. To love unconditionally was to accept that loss may be a part of that love. For when the object of that love faded, the rebound…

Final spin.

And now Dedka was gone, and Yuri mourned the loss of the shower of love. His own emotions bounced back to him, unable to find their target, betrayed, pained, confused. Agape was never-ending, and Yuri hurt as the emotions built up, stuck inside his chest. Though the pain of his mother’s departure never fully faded, he had learned to love fiercely from the example of his grandparents. An emotion above emotions. Regardless of all things, unaffected by anger, greed, sadness, or betrayal; on and on, Agape loved.

He thrust his clasped fists straight up into the air, stunned that he had reached the end of the song. The crescendo passing him by as his mind whirled. Slowly, he came back down to Earth, dropping to support his hands on his knees and breathing heavily, more tired than he had ever felt after running a program.

As he caught his breath, Yuri noticed the arena was deathly silent and glanced up as the first sharp claps rang out. The claps multiplied, and then came cheers; screaming, hooting, roaring across the ice at him. Yuuri was leaning over the side boards as far as he could, arms stretched out toward Yuri and eyes wide with delight. Vitya stood next to him, slowly clapping his hands and grinning that broad, satisfied smile he had when Yuri did something truly well.

Agape was the love he felt for his mates, bitten into his skin with the marks and flowing through his veins with every pulse of his heart. It was chemical. It was biologic. It was true. As a beta, Yuri could understand that the emotions wouldn’t yet be so firm or solid without the hormones in his blood and neurotransmitters in his brain from the bites, but those would have developed naturally anyway. That would have just taken a little more time. It didn’t happen for all mates- with or without exchanging marks, but it had happened for them.

In his brief period of time as Omega, he had felt the terrifying extent that such love could offer. Omegas loved the deepest. All the research said that they took the longest to recover from the deaths of mates. They were the ones most likely to fall into states of mental illness or even commit suicide after such an event. In fact, the statistics were staggering. Full triple bonds could only be broken by death, and when it happened, chaos always followed. Beginning with the death chimes that some mates heard from thin air at the time of their mate’s death, many people never recovered from the loss of their mates. Yuri hoped he never had to hear them. He had a feeling he would be one of those who broke.

Pulling himself out of the depressing thought spiral, Yuri rushed to the edge where he was quickly tackled by his Omega mate.

Yuuri hugged him tightly and looked up with his chin pressed against Yuri’s chest. “Yurio, that was so beautiful! You made my heart hurt; it was like watching a desperate bird out-of-control and thrown about by the wind, but at the same time it completely embodied a powerful being living in the moment. It was so complex and entrancing. Nobody could look away!”

“He’s right.” Victor slung an arm around Yuri’s shoulders and surreptitiously set a hand flat on Yuuri’s back, squeezing the three of them together. “That was the most impressive program I’ve ever seen you skate. I see you found your Agape.”

Yuri nodded. He wanted to lean his head into Victor and take comfort, but there were far too many people twittering around. He settled for squeezing Yuuri tight and reveling in the closeness. “I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck…”

Vitya patted him on the back. “Take ten minutes to collect yourself and solidify your emotions, then run the choreography twice more with downgraded jumps and once as you would in competition.”

Yuri nodded and sighed. His body was fine. There was no way Vitya was gonna let him off of practice with just an explosive break-through. Nevermind he’d been trying to come to this understanding for months. And if that hint of a smirk was anything to go by, the alpha had definitely remembered his order for Yuri to skim his jumps and was infinitely pleased that he’d been listened to.

“Yuuri, will you be all right with your students? The lessons are thirty minutes long, and I need to work with Yura.”

Yuuri’s mouth twitched into an amused smile. “I can handle the tinies; thank you for asking. East rink, right? Will you introduce me during Yurio’s break?” He stepped back from his mates and waited for Vitya to follow.

“You’re starting today? That’s great, Yuuri.” Yuri felt like he didn’t sound particularly enthusiastic; he blamed his emotional fatigue. Fortunately, Yuuri didn’t seem to take an offense to it.

“Certainly.” Vitya stroked Yuri’s back one last time and walked after Yuuri. “I’ll be right back,” he called over his shoulder. “And as I said, the lesson is brief.”

“And then we can go home?”

“Yes,” Vitya turned around fully, and Yuri could feel his eyes rake over his body. “Then we can go home and reward you for doing so very well today.”

Heat rose in his cheeks. Perhaps Agape was not the only form of love that Yuri felt for his mates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some fun following along with Yurio's Agape program. I think I watched it about 30 times.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri teaches his first class.  
> J.J. is an asshole (sorry team J.J.).  
> Yuri has something to say about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter would have been posted a while ago, but when I realized I could actually determine Yuuri’s religion, I had to do some research, lol. Gathered from scenes in the anime, Yuuri and his family are Buddhist. He takes part in typical Shinto rituals/festivals as is the norm in Japan, but primarily he follows Buddhism (likely Shin Buddhism, which is one of the two most common sects of Pure Land Buddhism in Japan and originated in Kyushu. Notably, his family doesn’t keep stone tablets in their altar, so this is my best guess.)
> 
> The Katsuki family keeps a Buddhist shrine in their home (we see it in Episode 1 when Yuuri lights incense for Vic-chan). The temple that Yuuri and Yurio visit in episode 2 is a “tera,” a Buddhist temple. (Victor: “Maa, tera kana?”) We get to see Yurio getting whacked a couple of times by a priest, likely for falling asleep or spacing out during meditation. And we also see the purification ritual (Zen Buddhism or Shinto-derived) where Yuuri and Yurio stand under a waterfall in kimono. (Victor: “Maa, taki kana?”)
> 
> Given Yuuri’s displeasure with his lot in life (in SaS), he occasionally feels agnostic, but when it really comes down to it, he’s Buddhist and those are the beliefs he goes back to when he’s scared or emotionally distressed.
> 
> Again, I do not follow Buddhism, although I have great respect for it, so any corrections would be most welcome!

Yuuri watched the pile of delighted children tumble over each other on the benches beside the East rink. They looked like little Easter chicks: all fluffy and bundled up in bright colors. A smattering of protective gear covered heads or knees or bottoms, but the majority were only armed with hats and mittens.

Even more turbulent than the children were the parents as they chased their offspring around, attempting to secure skates and zip jackets or fit tiny fingers into gloves.

This wouldn’t be his first-time teaching the Tots class, but every batch was different. Children, Yuuri had noticed, were resilient, indestructible creatures with the memory of a goldfish and the emotional stability of a presenting omega. Individuals though they may be, they tended to have pack associations. If one cried, they all cried.

Speaking of, one mother had coerced her daughter onto the ice, and the little girl had promptly fallen onto her butt and begun sobbing. She was perfectly fine. 99 times out of 100, they were perfectly fine. There just wasn’t that far to fall when you were less than 3 feet tall. The woman cooed at her bawling child and gathered her into her arms to carry off the ice. Yuuri sighed.  That was exactly what she shouldn’t have done. He’d have to correct the parents’ behavior just as much as their children’s skating.

Yuuri and Victor approached the families and stopped to wait at the edge of the rink with bright eyes blinking up at them curiously from the little monsters currently having skates laced onto their feet. Yuuri liked kids. He liked teaching them, and he also liked putting them back in their parents’ arms after the lesson. Prior to presenting Omega, he always figured he would end up with a couple of kids at the end of the day, but after… It was a strange phenomenon: having part of himself nearly crying in joy at the mere suggestion of becoming pregnant, and all the rest of him squicked out to the nth degree. 

 Shortly, Yakov came striding down the walkway. He cleared his throat loudly several times and finally resorted to shouting “Your attention, please!”

Most heads turned toward the older man. “You will have a new instructor today. This is Mr. Yuuri Katsuki from Japan. He has previously competed on the international level and has prior experience teaching skating lessons. From this day forward, he will be your teacher.”

“What about Miss Natalia?” A tiny voice came from a red egg balancing on his skates near the wall.

“Miss Natalia isn’t able to teach at during this time block anymore, but you may still see her at the rink at other times if you come to practice.”

Some of the parents seemed skeptical, and a few kids appeared distressed, but no one else protested.

“And now I’ll leave you in his capable hands.” Yakov turned on heel and marched away, unconcerned by the bewildered parents.

Victor chuckled. “I’ll watch the first few minutes and make sure everything goes well.”

Yuuri nodded. He sat down and quickly laced on his own skates. They still weren’t broken in completely, but teaching would actually be good for that. He opened the side gate and called for the kids to join him on the ice. About a fourth of the rink was separated from the remainder by soft black barriers. Public skate was covering the rest of the Olympic sized rink while the sectioned-off quarter was used for group and individual lessons.

Yuuri took a moment to watch the skaters on the other side of the barrier. A couple of dozen people skated around. Some were decent; some held onto the side wall for dear life. Age was irrelevant. Dynamic was irrelevant. Oh ice skating, you great equalizer, you…

The children had finally been coerced onto the ice by their desperate parents, and Yuuri skated forward to take ownership of them.

“Hello everyone,” Yuuri said in English. “My name is Yuuri, and before we start, can anyone tell me what you did in your last class with Miss Natalia?”

A few sets of blue and green eyes blinked back at him in confusion, but most of the children were able to understand him with no issues. They quickly whispered translations to their less lingual friends and the little things began to shout out various responses.

“Falling down and standing up!”

“Skating forward!”

“Swizzles!”

Yuuri nodded. That was about what he expected.  “All right then, why don’t you show me what you can do?”

The little tottering things moved forward in an attempt to do… something. Most fell over, probably only a couple on purpose. A couple more happily marched along on the ice. One in particular was doing rather successful swizzles with her arms stretched out and a tongue caught between her lips in concentration.

Yuuri smiled. They were all completely ridiculous. He loved it. He skated around, up-righting the fallen ones that had gotten stuck and encouraging those still on their feet. They skated like this, Yuuri teaching and helping, the students flailing and falling, for the 30-minute lesson.

Yuuri took a mental tally of the children before glancing to Victor on the side of the rink. Seems he had stayed for the full lesson. Yuuri’s Alpha was watching him with a plainly obvious look of adoration plastered on his face. No attempt at disguising it would work… thankfully, the parents were more intent on their children than the former World Champion.  Yuuri chuckled, pleased at the attention, and began to herd his tinies back toward their parents. Victor blinked and snapped out of it. He waved to Yuuri with an adoring smile on his face.

“Well, well… I can’t believe who parents are allowing to teach their children these days.” A voice echoed out, loud across the ice.

Yuuri’s eyes followed it back to an alpha in red warm-ups who neatly hopped the black barrier from the public ice. He looked distinctly familiar, but Yuuri couldn’t quite place him at this distance. Several men and women broke off from him and continued in the stream of skating traffic.

“I know for a fact that sweetworkers aren’t permitted to take second jobs in this country. What do you think you’re doing, Eros?”

Yuuri froze, the confusion and irritation that had been building inside him icing over into terror. _Who the fuck…_

The parents began tittering again in distress. They gathered their children to them and began hurriedly removing skates.  “You’re a sweetworker?” One of them asked Yuuri in an accusing tone.

“No, I was, but now…”

“This is Yuri Plisetsky’s mate,” Victor interrupted. He had made his way closer to the commotion while Yuuri was distracted, but he couldn’t get onto the ice without skates on. “He no longer works in a sugarhouse, and it is quite acceptable for him to take a position teaching at this ice rink.”

The instigating man continued his slow approach. “Sorry buddy, but why are you the one speaking for him then? Shouldn’t his Alpha be doing that?”

“I’m quite certain Yuuri can speak for himself. Also, you’ll have to forgive Yura’s absence, Mr. Leroy. He’s training right now, as I assume you should be as well. Preferably in your home country.” Victor swept forward to the edge of the rink, his brown coat flapping. Unfortunately, the other alpha was in skates, allowing him to loom several inches over Victor. He grinned.

Leroy… The name was familiar to Yuuri, too. The only person he knew by that name…

Dread started to build inside Yuuri. Jean Jacques Leroy hadn’t been nearly so tall or broad when Yuuri had guided his presentation five years earlier. After the two required years of work prior to taking on any presenting Alphas and another year without any complications, Yuuri had been unable to instill into J.J. the importance of an omega’s pleasure during sex. He gritted his teeth. No wonder the man remembered him. People never forgot the person they presented under: sweetworker, girlfriend, or colleague, but Yuuri had guided hundreds of presentations since then. He certainly couldn’t bring them all to mind, but this alpha he would always remember as one of his biggest regrets. His greatest failing as a sweetworker.

“See? This is why Omegas shouldn’t work in public. He’s going to stink up the place and drive everybody nuts.” J.J.’s expression was smug. He was blaring alphan pheromones, and Victor looked like it was taking every bit of his control to keep from decking the younger man.

Yuuri took note of himself and realized his distress was leaking heavily into his scent, which was flooding across and out of the rink to seek his mates. It had caught Victor easily, if the alpha’s white-knuckled grip on the bench was any sign on it.

“I think you ought to leave the rink, Mr. Leroy. I’m not aware of why you’re here, but you are upsetting one of Yubileyny’s employees.”

“I’m here to train for Worlds, same as the rest of you. We figured taking the last two weeks prior to get settled in this country would do me well.” J.J stretched his arms over his head lazily and then leaned on the barrier to the rink. “You look awfully riled, Nikiforov, but you don’t own this rink, and I have every right to be here. Almost as much of a right to that as these parents have for an ethical skating coach for their kids, wouldn’t you say? Not some dirty sweetworker.”

Yuuri winced. The words made him angry. They also drove a knife deep into his insecurities.

Victor shook. “We don’t discriminate against Omegas here. Apologize immediately.” His eyes were narrowed, glinting gold, and Yuuri knew he was barely controlled. They needed to get out of here before Victor outed their situation. He was bound to slip up and claim Yuuri as his own or out-right attack J.J.

“I’m not going to be sorry for looking out for these kids’ interests. It’s just sick to have an omega sweet in charge of them like this. What if they end up like him?”

Victor was shuddering. Yuuri could feel their bond flare as his Alpha tried to keep himself composed.

The parents were whispering amongst themselves: some looking at each other in confusion, others frowning in distaste and pulling their children away from the scene. Still other were nodding in agreement with J.J.’s words.

“Tell you what, let’s see if your skating is decent… Come out farther on the ice with me, Eros.” J.J. took hold of Yuuri’s elbow and made to glide away.

Sweetwork had hardened Yuuri’s ability to disobey and question Alphas. He had been well-respected in his community both for and despite his profession. So it was incredibly nonfortuitous that J.J. was probably the only Alpha he couldn’t stand up to now, and Yuuri couldn’t manage to say anything to him.  What he did do was dig a toe pick into the ice and jerk backward, making the alpha stumble past him and topple over onto the ice. Unfortunately, he didn’t let go of Yuuri’s arm, and so he followed right down afterward, across the soft barriers and into the public skating area. He managed to take the fall on his hip, but it was anything but comfortable to sprawl down on the ice like that.

An actual growl spilled from J.J.’s lips. “Now you’ve done it.” He was up on his feet in a heartbeat, his hand sliding to Yuuri’s wrist and holding firm. Then he began skating, dragging Yuuri along with him. Shock and horror flooded through the bond from Victor as Yuuri clawed at J.J. with the nails of his free hand. Yuuri was dragged far enough to have time to contemplate that at least ice was any easy substance to be dragged on.

The alpha laughed. “You deserve a little punishment for resisting me like that. And after all, your Alpha isn’t even here. Really, what good are you but to amuse me?” J.J. hauled Yuuri to his knees and settled a hand on his shoulder. The omega stiffened, edging away and trying to be touched as little as possible.

“Come on now. For old time’s sake.”

This had to be karma. Buddha’s teachings were now proven. It was all legit.

There were several ways to fail when guiding a presentation. It happened all the time outside of sugar and spicehouses. Yuuri knew the requirements of a successful alphan presentation by heart, but that didn’t mean the average person could successfully stumble into all the necessary components. Failing to sate lust or rage or unearth knowledge of how enjoyable an omega’s pleasure could be to an alpha; how satisfying it was to please and protect and care for them. Unsuccessful channeling of dominance into assertiveness rather than violence. On and on; it was complicated. People really didn’t understand how much study and training went into being a sweetworker who guided presentations; the broad assumption being that they just laid on the bed and got fucked.  To be fair, that would cut it for some of the less discerning patrons in for a rut, but every time Yuuri had the pleasure of entertaining a truly dickish alpha, he always had to wonder if whoever guided their presentation had screwed it up. In the case of J.J., Yuuri had been that screw-up. And this was karmic backlash.

Wallowing in a mix fear and guilt, Yuuri gave up on freeing himself from J.J.’s grip. This was divine punishment. He was suddenly hit with the overwhelming urge to go find a waterfall and just stand under it yet another attempt to purify the pollution and sin from himself. He needed a tera; what were the odds that he could find a Buddhist temple in St. Petersburg?

A particularly strong squeeze of his shoulder brought Yuuri back from his thoughts. “Are you actually ignoring me right now?”

Yuuri shook his head. Karma was a bitch.

J.J. sighed. “Listen, it wasn’t by accident that I ended up at your sugarhouse on literally the other side of the world from my place.” He let go of Yuuri and skated slow backward circles around him. “I knew who you were back then, believe it or not. My parents used to make me watch your spins and step sequences over and over again, insisting that if I saw it often enough, I’d be able to do them like you did.  It was so obnoxious. So when I found you you’d turned out as an omega sweet, I just had to have you be the one to guide my presentation. I made my folks bring me to Yutopia. They weren’t too keen on it, I’m sure you understand. They’d wanted me to idolize you or emulate you or be challenged by you something like that. Either way, it was hard to see how far you’d fallen, but I sure felt better about the whole time my parents were comparing me to you.”

Yuuri froze. He’d been specifically targeted. How many other times had this happened that he didn’t know about? How many people had exulted in the fact that they could throw him around as they pleased instead of having to face him on the ice? Yuuri had never thought he was much of a threat, but apparently J.J’s family had considered him something special. He felt unclean.

“Was that… Was coming to Yutopia your revenge against me?”

J.J. waved a hand nonchalantly. “Something like that. You were a pretty good lay, honestly. Watching myself slide in and out of your ass was amazing. You know, I’m not even particularly interested in men? Well, the pretty ones are all right, I suppose. Your Alpha looked almost as nice on my cock as you did.” He smirked and settled a hand back on Yuuri’s shoulder to stroke his throat with two fingers.

Yuuri’s mouth went dry. Yurio… Yurio had slept with J.J. Had he had to endure what Yuuri had gone through during J.J’s presentation? Karma wasn’t a bitch. Karma was an indiscriminate bitchface demon spawn from the 9th level of Hell.

 

* * *

 

Yuri was collecting his water bottle from the bench when a firey swath of rage lanced through the bond and into him feeling like a well-aimed punch to the gut. The blurriness of the Beta connection made it impossible to tell who it was coming from, but the emotions had to be extreme for him to feel them at all. Vitya had said he’d be back after dropping Yuuri off for his first class, and he had yet to return; hopefully the reason for his absence wasn’t also behind the hateful thrumming coming through the bond. Yuri could vaguely feel their direction, which matched the information that the lesson was located on the East rink. He slid on his black and purple guards and hurried his way across Yubileyny. The volatility of the emotions building inside him was becoming almost painful. He needed to be there, and he needed to be there _now_.

Yuri rounded a corner and caught his first view of the situation. And what it looked like was a rival skater had come to visit: Jean Jacques Leroy. 24 year-old Canadian skater known for his stupid hard rock vocals and his annoyingly impressive jumps. Yuri couldn’t say they got on even at the best of times. They had hooked up a year prior, and that had not gone down well at all.  J.J. had pursued Yuri for nearly year before Yuri had given in, simultaneously annoyed and curious. And dear God, did he regret that decision. The cocky bastard had been a shitty lover and a shittier friend.

And now J.J. seemed to be giving Yuuri a hard time, of all things. Yuri wasn’t sure why the asshole and his entourage had come to Yubileyny, and frankly, he didn’t really give a shit, because under the torrent of extreme rage now flooding off Vitya, little notes of omegian distress were flowing through the bond, and that. Was. Not. Okay.

Vitya didn’t have skates on, but it looked like he was going to run onto the ice anyway. His hands were clenched around the edge of the barrier, and his teeth were bared below bright gold eyes. He was a hare’s breath away from outing the existence of their triple bond.

Even with Beta hearing, Yuri couldn’t make out quite what J.J. was saying to Yuuri. But he saw them go down, and he saw J.J. dragging his mate across the ice while Yuuri scrambled to get free. Vitya pushed someone out of the way and made to go to Yuuri, slipping on the slick surface, heedless of his own safety.

His mates were in danger from this fuckface. Who did he think he was to lay his hands on Yuuri? To drag him around like that? To ignore Vitya’s commands? That son of a bitch had not only deigned to touch Yuri’s mate, but he was actually hurting him! Completely resilient to the pained cries of an omega like no Alpha should ever be. _What a fucking sociopath._ Blood was pounding in Yuri’s ears, and his vision was tinged with red. _That fucking bastard._ His head throbbed in time with his heartbeat, and pressure built behind his eyes, seeking escape. Yuri knuckled one of his temples as he ran forward.

Not fast enough. Never fast enough. He should have been here the whole time, watching after his mates! Keeping them safe and happy. Removing threats before the surfaced, like this predatory fuck currently man-handling Yuuri. Yuri needed to be stronger and quicker, more agile and more quick-witted. He needed more power, dammit!

A sudden crash like thunder, and Yuri’s skull felt like it was split apart by lightning. His vision went white, but his lips peeled back into a broad, feral grin, because for the first time, he knew what was going on. He knew what was happening, and he couldn’t fucking wait. Adrenaline flooded into his blood. A maniacal laugh was held back by clenched teeth before a tongue flicked out to lick between them. He wanted to taste blood. Yuri’s pheromones roared out from his scent glands. People spun around, eyes bugging out or glazing over depending on their dynamics, seeking the source of the sudden rush of scent. Because Yuri was Alpha again. And may God have mercy on the souls of those who stood between him and his mates.

Vitya turned instantaneously, probably suddenly feeling Yuri right behind him. He paused for a second, noticing the change in Yuri’s scent and demeanor. Then he nodded sharply and let out a rush of words. “Oh thank God, you’re here. For the love of all that is holy, go and get… your mate. I’m about to completely lose it, Yura.” He carded a hand through his hair and twisted it into the locks. The crazed look in his eyes said everything.

Yuri didn’t reply. He ripped off his guards and handed them to Vitya as he stepped past him onto the ice.  A hand caught his arm and he looked down to follow it up to Vitya’s shoulder and face.

“Behave. Don’t fight right before World’s.” Vitya words seemed to actually pain him to force out between his teeth. He was bottling his emotions now, attempting to manage his inner Alpha. Yuri knew he was getting himself under control now that Yuri was here and could solve the situation. “We will deal with _him_ later.”

Yuri bristled none-the-less. “I’ll do my best, Coach…” he hissed out, jerking his arm free. “But no promises.” Vitya’s eyes narrowed, but Yuri didn’t give him time to comment before skating toward their other mate.

He couldn’t stop. There was no controlling himself in this situation. Words tore from his throat in an echoing, hateful bellow. “If you don’t get your fucking hands off of my Omega, I will literally tear them the fuck off and shove them down your filth-spewing throat.”

J.J. turned grinned at him, waiting until Yuri was closer before replying. “There you are. It took you forever. Were you 20 kilometers away or something?” He let go of Yuuri’s shoulder, and the omega let out a whimper and collapsed onto his hands and knees on the ice.

“Alpha… Alpha, please. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for… Please, he just… I didn’t…” His eyes focused on his knees, tears welling in them. Yuri didn’t know what he was begging or apologizing for… Yuuri had done nothing wrong.

“Jesus Christ, I didn’t expect you to have such good control of him, Yuri! I’m almost impressed. Can’t believe you actually presented Alpha, for that matter, considering our little dalliance.”

“Get. Away. From Him. Now.” Yuri’s words were clipped, trying to keep cold beneath the radiating wildness. He looked back to the rink’s edge and met eyes with Victor’s gold, and he knew his looked similar. Just like J.J.’s, and he hated to have anything in common with someone who could treat another person like this. But while Vitya still looked simultaneously enraged and terrified, J.J. actually looked like he was getting off on this shit. Yuri altered his original assessment from sociopath to psychopath.

“Hey, hold on now, Eros and I are old friends. You won’t begrudge me a little nostalgic conversation, will you?” J.J. settled a palm in Yuuri’s dark hair, and Yuuri let out a despondent, little moan. The sound bit into Yuri’s chest like a knife.

Yuri didn’t know the connection between his Omega mate and his… rival? But it didn’t seem important with J.J. touching someone who clearly belonged to Yuri.

“I am going to slit your throat with your own skates, if you don’t step away from him.” Yuri continued to approach carefully. Vitya’s anger and Yuuri’s helplessness and… guilt? were flooding over each other through the bond, and Yuri wasn’t used to the enormity of it. Wasn’t able to manage the overwhelming potency. He’d really only been dealing with his own emotions since he’d switched to Beta, and the brute strength of emotional content in the bond was making it hard to Yuri to think instead of just act impulsively on instinct. He shook his head to clear it.

Yuuri had begun weeping. Tears flowing silently down his face as he tried to make himself as small as possible, shrinking down and away from the hand stroking his hair. The hand of a person that was Alpha and yet not Yuri or Vitya.

It was unforgivable. J.J. smirked and continued petting Yuuri.

“I am going to kill you….” Yuri hissed, his fingers twitching with the need to strangle or punch or just do _anything violent_.

“Oh calm down, this was just a little psychological warfare before World’s. But by all means, take a swing at me. I’m sure the ISU would love to hear about you striking a fellow competitor.”

“And what will they say about you harassing a competitor’s Omega?”

J.J. waved a hand, unconcerned. “Nothing. Omegas don’t have world rights, you know that. Pffft. Come on, Yuri, get with the program.”

This arrogant son of a bitch…Yuri lunged.

“Alpha, no!”

A hand twisted itself into the leg of Yuri’s pants, and it was probably the only thing that could have stopped his own hands from wrapping themselves tight around J.J.’s throat and squeezing, squeezing, squeezing… He forced a shaky breath out from his lungs and concentrated on keeping his balance so he didn’t tumble over onto J.J.

The contact with Yuuri helped calm the fire storm inside Yuri. Putting off attempting murder, he clamped his shaking fingers around J.J’s wrist, physically removing the hand from Yuuri’s hair, and twisted his other hand into the alpha’s red jacket collar.  So he shouldn’t kill him. Fine. Didn’t mean he couldn’t break a few things as a warning.

“You will never touch him again, you hear me? I---“

He was cut off as a blur of long, dark hair rushed between them, colliding with J.J. He fell from Yuri’s grip onto the ice, clutching his groin with both hands, and groaning.

“What the actual fuck!?”

A hand settled itself on Yuri’s shoulder, and he tore his eyes from the confusing scene in front of him. Mila stood behind him and gave a half-smile accented with twinkling, amused blue eyes.

“Hey Yurotchka. Looked like you were having some trouble out here, and Vitya is lacing his skates at the speed of light over there.” She pointed a thumb back over her shoulder and Yuri saw his older mate doing just that. “I was just coming to back you up, but I guess Sara had other ideas.” Her mouth curved into a wider, beautiful smile as she turned her gaze to the omega femme now looming over the man prostrate on the ice.

Sara had her fists balled up in front of her below a red face, wild hair, and angry, silver-flecked violet eyes. She looked ready to kill, but instead she carefully enunciated: “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry! I’m just not very good at ice skating you know? I lost my balance, such a stupid, clumsy omega that I am. I sincerely apologize. Are you all right?” Sara was standing in rental skates between J.J.s legs, but she seemed quite steady despite her pronouncement.

“You little bitch…” J.J wheezed out, still covering his more delicate regions. “I know you did that on purpose!”

Sara wobbled dangerously close to his groin. He shied away, wincing.

“Hey now, let’s be civil here,” Mila replied, reaching out a hand to help J.J. up. He ignored it.

“Can’t believe you two are all worked up over some shitty sweetmeat.”

The slur fell from his lips with familiarity, used often enough that he didn’t think twice about it.

Yuuri paled and pulled himself close to his mate with his death grip on Yuri’s leg. Sara let out a screech of sheer, unadulterated rage.

The derogatory term originated from the manner in which sweetworkers were selected by patrons, as though meat from a butcher. It also came from a historical period of time prior to ratification of the IOPS. The International Omegian Protection Standards were far from perfect, but they did officially mandate universal law prohibiting murder and mutilation of sweetworkers during work hours. Prior to IOPS going into effect, no such restriction prevented patrons from killing the sweets and then settling up with the housemistress or master.

Most people now found the term to be grotesque. Yuri certainly did. When he had used it during his early teens, not knowing what he was saying, Yakov had smacked him upside the head and sent him home, cutting his practice short. The next day, they had a long conversation about what the word meant and what it was used to imply. How, when Yuri said it, he was saying Omega lives were only for alphan use. For alphan amusement up to and past the point of torture and murder.

Yuri had felt horrible. He’d been 12 or 13, just copying an older boy from school. Hadn’t known he was saying such awful things about people. He’d been so upset that Yakov hadn’t even given him any further punishment, just patted him on the head and apologized for hitting him. Yuri hadn’t understood, he said, and that was okay, but now he did and the word was not to be used. Ever.

Yuri had never said it again. He’d yelled at other kids who did say it. Yuri had still believed the stigma against sweetworkers and Omegas in general right up until his presentation, but that didn't mean they weren't people who deserved to be treated with due respect. If it ever could before, this most definitely could no longer be considered polite company.

Yuri couldn’t allow such blatant abuse of his mate. It just wasn’t acceptable. He was going to have an aneurysm if he didn’t either rip out this asshole’s throat or pound his face into the ice.

Mila’s hand squeezed Yuri’s shoulder.

“Calm, Yurotchka. We have Yuuri. Time to go.” She tipped her head in the direction of the rink’s exit, and Yuri looked to see Yakov and Izzy-sensei forcibly keeping Vitya in his place. Then he felt Yuuri press his face into the leg he was clutching. His mind cleared a bit. There were more important things than murdering J.J.

Speaking of, the alpha had gotten back up off the ice and was now towering over Sara. The omega femme retreated behind Mila, glaring over the redhead’s shoulder while simultaneously smiling sweetly. It was a terrifying expression. Yuri liked it.

“I’m gonna see you put on every sugarhouse’s scratch list. Good luck ever finding a quality sweet to sate your ruts,” she announced.

J.J. had recovered enough from Sara’s attack to get a bit of swagger back. “I’ll see her punished for this,” he said to Mila. “And if she’s yours, I’ll see you there right along with her.”

“Nope,” Mila said with a shrug. “Never met her before. This is just some crazy random happenstance.” She smiled. “But I’ll claim her now to keep her away from you.”

Sara shifted down to help Yuuri to his feet. Yuri helped without taking his eyes from the alpha in front of him, and they succeeded in getting him up, though Yuuri still huddled against his mate. Yuri wrapped an arm around him and then cut a wide C in the ice and rode the momentum backward. Mila and Sara followed, and no one turned their backs on J.J. Whether this was training or instinct, Yuri appreciated the wariness.

J.J. followed them to the gate, but paused there, looking toward Yakov and Vitya with confused amusement as the others filed through onto the black rubber flooring.

“Don’t antagonize my skaters, Leroy,” Yakov said with a scowl. “Or I’ll tell your parents you can’t act in a mature fashion without their constant presence.” He had a white knuckle grip on Vitya, who was looking at the ground, every muscle straining with the very definition of the word tension. Yuri knew that if his Alpha looked up, Vitya would probably try to kill J.J. He’d been prevented from protecting his mates, and this was the unsurprising result. And _Oh_ did Yuri get it. Only keeping Yuuri close was trumping Yuri from joining Vitya in the incredibly appealing activity of removing J.J’s head from his body.

J.J. stared back at Yakov, the cocky expression fading from his face. No. He stared past him. He was staring at Izzy.

“You… What’s your name, Miss?”

Izzy stared back with confused eyes, her mouth slightly open. “Isabella.” Her fingers unwrapped from Vitya’s bicep, and she took a careful step forward.

Sara caught her wrist “Izzy-sensei. Honey. What are you doing?”


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the altercation with J.J. for our boys and for Izzy.  
> Lemon warning.

Yuuri sat down on the bench and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He knew better than to actually use his fists; that would cause wrinkles, and sweets were nothing without their pretty faces. This gentle pressure, however, he would allow himself. In the background, he could hear yelling and protests, but everything was getting foggy. Something about Izzy-sensei not going somewhere with someone and “crazy” and “she’s an adult.”

The bonds to Victor and Yurio were growing hotter and hotter. Yuuri knew they were agitated, and considering what had happened with J.J., it was to be expected. The prior feelings of fear and guilt had bled out of Yuuri, stomped to death by the rage and lust and sheer overwhelming violence of what must now be dual Alpha bonds. There was no way he’d be getting this much from Yurio through a Beta bond.

Itchy. Yuuri scratched at the marks on his neck. Since when was it so goddamn hot in an ice rink? Fuck, he was uncomfortable.

A hand settled carefully on Yuuri’s shoulder, and he followed it up to see Yurio’s face tight with anger. “Let them go. There’s nothing we can do about it,” he said. “We have more important things to take care of.”

Victor growled low under his breath from Yuuri’s other side. Yuuri turned and blinked wide eyes at him.

“Seriously. Seriously, Vitya?” Yurio hissed back.

There was some muttering from the other people present, but Yuuri couldn’t focus on any of them. Yurio and Victor were too huge in his mind. All of his attention was focused on his mates and the bonds vibrating between the three of them. Victor felt angry. Unfathomably deep rage pulsed with jealousy and protectiveness as it streamed into Yuuri, blocking external sensation. Yurio’s own heated emotions pushed right back. Stressed worry, anger, pride, and furious, barely controlled savagery. Dominance pressed in on Yuuri from both sides, and a little moan escaped his lips before he could clamp his jaws shut. Someone turned up the volume, somehow drowning out the meaning of the words that the two men were yelling at each other over Yuuri’s head.

“What the hell is going on?” Mila suddenly entered Yuuri’s frame of reference as she shoved her way between Victor and Yurio, pushing them apart with a hand on each chest.

Victor shook himself. “This isn’t the place for this. We have to go. Now.”

Yurio’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like being commanded on the best of days, and right now, it seemed he was going to be even more resistant.

Mila scowled and crossed her arms, stepping back. “Best idea you’ve had all week, Vitya. Especially since Yurotchka’s Omega looks like he’s going to pass out.”

Both men looked down at Yuuri, and realization and guilt cut through from both bonds.

“Fuck, Yuuri, I’m so sorry, I got caught up… Vitya, yeah, let’s take him home.” Yurio took Yuuri’s hand and tugged a bit. Yuuri made every effort to stand up. He really did. And found himself stuck to the bench as though glued. Yurio nodded sagely and sat down next him, sliding his arm tight around Yuuri’s waist and standing them up together. Yuuri’s legs felt like jelly, but he managed to brace himself with an arm around his mate’s shoulders.

“Let’s just get somewhere private for a moment. See if we can’t calm him down.” Victor’s voice was under control again, and soon Yuuri found himself sitting in a small locker room. He figured it was probably the coach’s locker room, but for the life of him, he wasn’t sure how he’d gotten there or how much time had passed.

A hand gently caressed his cheek, and Victor’s blue eyes came into his vision. “Yuuri, are you all right? I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I’m so out of control right now.”

Yurio scoffed. “Why wouldn’t we be out of control? What the hell happened? How did that shit with J.J. get so far with you right there? You were supposed to protect him! What the fuck, Vitya; what kind of Alpha lets something like that happen to his Omega?! I can’t believe—”

Victor rose from his crouch and slammed Yurio into the bay of lockers, an arm barred across the younger man’s collar bone. “Don’t you dare speak to me like that! Do you think it was easy for me to stand by and wait for help? I called both you and Yakov the second I smelled Leroy on the air. I wanted to go out there and kill him as soon as he approached Yuuri, but I couldn’t because I had to protect _your career_. I had to protect _your secret_.”

“Fuck off Vitya, it’s your secret, too! Why don’t you admit what’s really got you riled?!”

Yuuri’s blood was on fire. “Alpha…” he mewled out. Neither of his mates heard him. So hot. Itchy. Wet. _Holy shit, am I slicking?_ He could smell his distressed omegian scent flooding out. It was too sweet. Too heavy on the brown sugar. That only happened when he was in…

They continued growling at each other. Blame. Guilt. Worry. Fury. Disgust. Competitiveness. Possessiveness. Rage…

Lemon and smoke were mixing in with Yuuri’s scent. Gods, it smelled like someone was baking lemon bars, and they’d just started burning. That sickly sweet, caramelized state sugar entered right before it blackened. It was too much. Yuuri slid to the floor and buried his face in his hands. Maybe he’d just stay like this forever.

Idiots. They were both idiots. He needed them so badly right now. And they were fighting! Actually fighting! Maybe he needed them so much precisely because they were fighting? Alphan pheromones were building up in the small room. It was intoxicating. Yuuri felt drunk on it, woozy, heavy, and inexorably, _incredibly aroused._

“Alpha… Alphas… please…” He tried again. He made it his sole attempt to force his lust through the bond. If anything would get through to them, it would be that.

Silence immediately lit the room, sounding so very loud after the constant argument of Yuuri’s Alphas.

They both focused. Victor dropped his forearm away from Yurio’s collar bone, sniffing at the air. Yurio shoved past Victor and knelt down next to Yuuri, pushing the dark hair out of his eyes and setting the back of his hand to his forehead.

“Vitya, he’s burning up. Is he sick?”

“He’s in heat…” Victor said slowly. He sat down cross-legged on the other side of Yuuri. “Why, I have no idea.”

“I can’t… be in heat…” Yuuri huffed out. “ ‘M on suppressants.”

“Suppressants prevent heat in most cases, as far as the school textbooks said,” Yurio noted anxiously. “But it can’t always prevent them if emotional content gets too out of control… oh shit this is totally our fault.” He grabbed his phone and began texting furiously. Victor frowned.

Yuuri watched Yurio while tugging at Victor’s coat. “Whatever. Don’t care. Need you. Help me!”

“We can’t sate him here… it’s much too dangerous. Anyone could walk in.” Victor’s words were in direct contradiction with his act of pulling off his coat.

“So lock the door,” Yurio answered, tossing his phone aside before divesting Yuuri of his shirt and leaning down to kiss his chest.

Victor growled again but stood and locked the door in jerking motions. “Why do I always have to be the responsible one?! It’s on you if we get caught, Yura.”

“I accept full responsibility,” Yurio answered before sucking one of Yuuri’s nipples into his mouth.

Yuuri keened, arching into the touch and reaching for Victor. “Please,” he said again.

When Victor turned back, his eyes were gold. He stripped his shirt over his head in a fluid movement before diving down to claim Yuuri’s mouth in a kiss, his hands cupping his Omega’s cheeks. His tongue pushed into Yuuri’s mouth with no preamble; Yuuri sucked on it, moaning around the insistent appendage. Yurio untied the drawstring of his mate’s training pants and pressed a hand in to palm Yuuri’s cock.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.”

Victor pulled back, a shiver running through his body. A single bolt of possessiveness flared through the bond before he stifled it. Yuuri blinked his eyes open. “Alpha?”

“It’s all right, Yuuri. Just relax. I’m okay.” But Victor didn’t look down at Yurio’s ministrations. In fact, he completely ignored his younger mate.

“Need you!” The urgency Yuuri was feeling was completely overwhelming. Fuck, when had his last heat been? September? He definitely wasn’t due yet. He wrapped his arms around Vitya’s neck as he bucked his hips against Yurio’s hand.

“He’s too loud,” Yurio hissed while working off Yuuri’s black training pants and shorts.

“How utterly surprising. We should have taken him home before starting this!”

Sarcasm from Victor? What? The man was not okay, no matter what he said.

“Shut it, and help me take care of him.”

Yuuri was gathered into Yurio’s arms and felt his back press against the cold lockers. They felt so good against his hot skin. But not nearly as good as the tip of the cock lining up against him.

“Fuck yes, please, fuck me fuck me, Alpha!”

Just as Yurio began to press inside, he was wrenched away. Utter fury pulsed from both sides of the bond.

“What they fuck, Vitya?!”

“I can’t. I can’t let you do that. I’m really trying here, but I feel like I might seriously injure you if I let this happen.”

“You are not going to stop me from giving him what he needs. If you can’t handle it, get out.” Yurio threw an arm out toward the door in suggestion.

Victor shook his head. Confusion and disappointment were radiating from him. He bit the inside of his cheek before giving a single, sober nod.  “Together. We… it’s the only way either of us are going to sate him. And it’s probably the fastest method.”

“What?! Don’t you think that’ll be a little much?”

Yuuri’s brain malfunctioned after hearing the word “together.” That sounded like the best idea ever. In fact, he was now certain nothing less would do.

“Not too much,” he breathed out. “Heat… s’okay… Do it. Please!”

Had he every begged this much before? Had he ever felt so desperate before? Certainly not that he’d been cognizant about.

Yuuri was shifted away from the lockers, Victor taking some of his weight by grabbing Yuuri’s ass.

“You first. Can’t have you spazzing again,” Yurio directed, looping Yuuri’s legs over his arms for better control.

Victor’s cock slid easily into Yuuri from behind, no preparation needed. Squelching noises clarified just how wet Yuuri had become while waiting. Deeper and deeper. He had somehow managed to forget just how big his Alpha was, and is was so so _good_. Yuuri’s heat haze lightened a bit, a reward for obeying his instincts. His vision cleared, allowing him to see Yurio’s bright gold hair and eyes and twisted smile as he pressed his own cock into Yuuri alongside Victor’s. He moved slowly, carefully, his jaw set with the effort of restraint.

“Ahh… that’s tight,” Victor hissed from behind Yuuri. The alphas eased Yuuri up and down, working him onto both of their cocks.

Yuuri had never had two alphas in him at the same time before. A mixture of dynamics during previous heats or his early years of sweetwork when he tolerated more of his patrons’ kinks, yes, but either way it had been a while. And it had never felt this good.

The slick made it easy once Victor and Yurio were thoroughly coated, and soon Yuuri was being bounced in tandem with their thrusts. No one could say his mates didn’t have rhythm. He leaned back and wrapped his arms around Victor’s neck and tightened his legs around Yurio as much as possible given the nature of their movements.

Victor growled words in Yuuri’s ear, and it took him a few moments to translate it through his haze. “Birth control?”

“Yeah… Got it covered,” Yuuri panted back. What do you know, Alphas really could learn.

Victor balanced his share of Yuuri’s weight onto his chest and his left arm before wrapping his now free arm around Yuuri’s waist to begin fisting his bouncing cock.

Yurio mumbled his gratitude and something about having enough trouble keeping control of himself as it was.

“This is so fucking hot… Feeling both of you like this…” Yuuri moaned out. “I’m so close, please, so so close!”

“Sit down on the bench, Yura,” Victor barked out, pulling out of Yuuri and earning himself a keen of loss from the omega.

Yurio growled back but obeyed, straddling the blue bench. He muttered something angrily and a ripping sound carried up before he settled Yuuri onto his lap. Victor remained standing but also straddled the bench. He pushed back into Yuuri alongside Yurio.

Yuuri let out a strangled yelp. So perfect… So incredibly full.

Yurio couldn’t move as much in his new position, but Victor was given completely free reign, which was likely the point of the shift in positions. Yurio took up the task of stroking Yuuri as he leaned up to kiss him, one elbow braced on the bench and his core tight with the effort. Victor stopped pulling his punches. His motions no longer restricted, he began to fuck Yuuri in earnest, fast and deep. Pressure stayed on Yuuri’s prostate constantly from Yurio’s slow, undulating movements with sharp, pulses of pleasure as Victor slammed in. Yuuri saw stars.

“Gods… so amazing. Yes, I’m.. I’m…” A scream ripped from his throat as Victor clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle it.

Yurio increased his speed, letting go of Yuuri’s spasming cock and putting his whole strength into controlling Yuuri’s position and his own thrusts. Victor and Yurio moved in tandem- first alternating and then together as if Yuuri was receiving one monstrous cock.

Yurio gritted his teeth and growled, his body shuddering with orgasm as he let Yuuri settle completely onto his lap and relaxed back to let his head hang off the bench.

Victor let out vicious noise, dampened down through a bitten lip as he shot his own release into Yuuri, collapsing them both forward onto Yurio.

The room was quiet except for the panting of all three men before Yurio’s voice rang out, husky and ragged.

“Fuck, you’re heavy.”

Victor chuckled, sending vibrations through Yuuri from multiple directions. But, the sensations weren’t enough.

Yuuri huffed, feeling like he was missing something. He let out a little moan, squirming.

The feeling must have transferred through the bond, because Victor answered him. “You’re not getting knotted in here, my beautiful Omega… If we weren’t asking for it already, being stuck in this position for some indeterminate length of time would definitely get us caught.” He pulled out, and Yurio rolled up to help Yuuri off of him.

“He’s still hard, Vitya,” he announced.

Victor pulled a few small towels from his locker and tossed one to Yurio. “I wouldn’t expect any less, given his stamina.”

“This is the weirdest heat, I’ve ever had,” Yuuri huffed, stealing the towel from Yurio and wiping himself down. Victor had already started dressing.

“You seem really in control, considering,” Yurio acknowledged, he bent to gather his pants from one ankle. “Shit… I totally ripped these to get them over my skates.”

Yuuri smirked. Watching the pair of them scramble around was actually pretty entertaining. Yurio had managed to keep his ice skates on through the course of the sordid affair. They had given him a couple of inches over Victor’s height. Yuuri felt bad for abusing them, but they had allowed Yurio to match Victor when they were holding him, and that had been just _perfect_. The memory of being held between his mates had his cock twitching again and the haze rising up. Shit. So much for a reprieve.

“We need to get out of here.” Victor swung his brown coat back on and tied it at the waist. Then he attempted to help Yuuri with his own clothes and was promptly and severely rejected. It was way too hot to be putting on itchy clothing.  Yuuri fended him off with flailing limbs.

Victor sighed and gave up. “Yura, get my spare coat out of my locker, will you please?”

Yurio raised his eyebrows. “Really? We’re going to take “My Omega,” he made the quote symbols in the air with his fingers, “out of here wrapped up in nothing but _your_ coat?”

“No one knows it’s mine. I never wear it.”

Yurio’s expression remained unimpressed.

Agitation winked across the bond, and Yuuri winced when Victor spoke. “Fine. Go get your coat and wrap him in it and then wear mine! Just hurry the fuck up!”

Yurio stared at him. “Did you just say fuck?”

“YURA, I SAID GO!”

Yurio’s fingers twitched, and Yuuri felt his younger mate’s own annoyance flare up.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“You are going to have to give me a break with this. Just do as I say so we can get out of here! The command hierarchy in our relationship is ever-evolving, but I have remained above you since this began. Forgive me if it takes more than 15 minutes to adjust to a baby Alpha walking in on my territory!” He whirled around to the door, his coat billowing out. His voice rose with alphan pheromones demanding obedience.

“Omega. Put your clothes on.”

Yuuri obeyed, collecting his shirt and training pants from the floor and dragging them unhappily onto his limbs. Yurio seemed upset. Angry, even, and maybe sullen? It was too convoluted; Yuuri was having trouble paying attention and picking out specific emotions with the heat haze rising up again rapidly.

“I’ll get your things,” Victor told the pair of them. “You meet me at the door, and I’ll pull the car up. And for God’s sake, be careful.” He leaned in to place a soft kiss on Yuuri’s lips and nodded at Yurio before opening the door and taking off.

Yurio stared after him. “What’s crawled up his ass? You’d think he didn’t just get laid…” His lips twisted into a scowl.

Yuuri let out a little despondent cry and reached up in to be enfolded in his mate’s arms. Victor’s emotions were bleeding through the bond regardless of how well-composed he was acting. It was almost like it was egging Yuuri’s heat on, and he needed to be held. Yurio gathered him close, and against his back, Yuuri could feel the short vibrations of a swiped text message being written.

* * *

The drive home from Yubileyny was the longest experience of Victor’s life. With Yuuri moaning in the back seat, it took everything in him to stop at red lights and keep his speed under the sound barrier.

“Do you think he went into heat to stop us from fighting?” Yura was sitting in the back with Yuuri, doing God know what; Victor was trying to pretend it wasn’t currently happening lest he purposely drive the car into a telephone pole.

“Possible… could be some sort of omegian defense mechanism.”

The tires squealed as Victor took the last turn sans brakes. A stream of angry honks followed them into his parking lot, and he couldn’t bring himself to care in the least.

“Come on Yuuri, we’re home now. Almost there,” Yura soothed. Muffled, frustrated sounds came from between Yuuri’s bitten lips. He was trying so hard to keep a hold on himself; it made Victor’s heart ache.

He helped maneuver Yuuri out of the car, across the lot to his building, and through the empty lobby. Fortunately, Victor’s elevator was much faster than Mila’s, and it wasn’t long before Yuuri had collapsed onto Victor’s bed, pulling weakly at his own training clothes and mewling. Victor helped him shed them again, shushing him with gentle kisses.

“I know, I know. We’re home now.”

Yura stood next to the bed with his arms crossed and chin cocked up; his posture harmonizing perfectly with the irritation painting orange and yellow splashes through the bond into Victor. His shirt and shoes had vanished.

Victor rubbed at the bow-strung tight tendons in the back of his neck and let out an exasperated sigh. “What, Yura?”

“Don’t you ‘what’ me. Look what you’re doing.”

Victor glanced around, and it didn’t take him too long to realize what his younger mate was referencing. Victor had placed himself squarely between Yuuri and Yura. His posture was low, stabilized, defensive as though expecting an attack or the need to commit one himself. He was guarding his Omega. From his other mate. He was still being ridiculous. But knowing his reactions and behavior were foolish didn’t mean he was going to be able to control it.

Victor sat down on the bed beside Yuuri and rubbed his temples with the thumb and middle finger of one hand. “I’m sorry. I can’t seem to help this behavior. You’re just going to have to work with me.”

Yura’s eyes narrowed. “Whatever, Vitya. There are more important things at the moment, if you can be bothered to get your head out of your ass and tend to them.”

He stalked forward and settled himself on the bed between Yuuri’s bare thighs, turning his head to gently kiss the muscular flesh.

Yuuri let out a moan of appreciation as the now familiar jealousy lanced through Victor. Christ, was it always going to be like this? He couldn’t live this way: constantly tamping down his need to run off one of his own mates.

“Bite…”

Victor froze. The word had slipped from Yuuri’s lips between the more languid, sensual noises, and it turned Victor on more than anything he’d ever heard in his life.

“Mark me, please…”

Yura looked up with a furrowed brow. “I… isn’t it too soon to place the third mark?”

“I don’t care!” Yuuri dragged out the last word for a few extra seconds in emphasis. “ ’M already in heat anyway…”

“Yeah, but I’m not,” Yura replied pointedly. “Setting marks too soon has a habit of doing that. You said so.” He was still kneeling on the floor between Yuuri’s legs, but he was tapping away at his cell phone. Who on earth was so important he needed to be texting them now?!

Yuuri huffed. “You’re Alpha now; you don’t have heats.” He slid his fingers through Yura’s hair and tugged the youth closer again.

Victor’s eyes narrowed, and he caught Yuuri’s hands in his own to untangle them from the golden locks. “Yuuri, this isn’t a good idea. We need to wait a couple of weeks to let our bodies settle. You’re shaken up right now, that’s all.” What Victor didn’t speak aloud was that the idea of Yura’s teeth in Yuuri’s thigh was enough to make him want to rip someone’s head off. Preferably by that someone’s blond hair.

“Omega, you can’t consent while in heat,” Yura said firmly.

Victor’s inner Alpha let out an internal roar. “Don’t call him that,” he snapped.

Yura raised an eyebrow. Then, with a questioning look across his face, he slowly lowered his jaw to Yuuri’s thigh again and bared his teeth.

And that was how Victor found himself pressing the youth against a hard surface for the second time that day. “You little brat; you know exactly what you’re doing to me.”

“Just confirming the theory, Vitya.” Yura’s face was a cold mask of displeasure; he wasn’t even trying to resist Victor’s hands pressing his shoulders against the floor.

Yuuri let out a wail and simultaneously extreme need and terror flushed through the bond, wiping out everything else that Victor had been feeling.

Yura audibly gritted his teeth. “Yeah, you were right. Defense mechanism.”

They both clambered up onto the bed, dragging themselves under the weight of their Omega’s need and want.

Yura aligned himself against Yuuri’s back, crooning in his ear. Victor just couldn’t take it anymore. He wasn’t being of any help… just causing drama. Just inhibiting Yuuri from getting what he needed.

He stood up from the bed.  “I can’t do this. I just can’t. I’m worried I can’t control myself. I have to leave.”

Yuuri looked up at him with tear-strewn, puppy-dog eyes. “Alpha… don’t go…”

Yura glared at him over Yuuri’s shoulders, his arms wrapped tightly around the omega’s middle. “What the hell, Vitya? Your place is here, no matter how much you’re freaking out about me being Alpha. Get the hell over it.”

Victor shook his head. He had tried to manage himself. Truly, he had. But neither Yuuri nor Yura needed him anymore regardless, now that Yura had returned to his original dynamic. It was what he had presented as, and it was what he was supposed to be. The world had corrected its mistake finally, and now Victor’s place in the relationship was redundant. No one needed two Alphas. Even the beautiful raven-haired man currently whimpering on Victor’s bed.

He spun on the ball of his foot, gathered the coat tossed haphazardly on the chair, and swung it over his shoulders without bothering to slide his arms through. No. Victor wasn’t necessary any longer. His marks burned beneath his shirt, and he winced. They would fade… eventually. After a long, long time. And until then, Victor would manage somehow. A lump caught in his throat, and he stared hard ahead to prevent any tears leaking from where they had begun to gather in his eyes. Before he knew it, Victor had reached the door to leave his flat. He pushed it open and stepped through. 

“Wait! Wait; I said wait dammit! Quit ignoring me!”

Yura caught Victor’s wrist just before he could shut the front door behind himself.

“Yuuri wants you here. And,” he steeled himself for a moment. “And I want you here.”

“I’m afraid that my intention to leave stands. I’m only in the way here, Yura.” Victor’s eyes latched onto the wall over his younger mate’s shoulder. The mirror. The window. Anything to avoid eye contact. The bonds throbbed at him. It had been hard for Yura, as an alpha, to say that. It was behavior to be respected, which was nothing that Victor’s own actions resembled.

“I’ll do anything.”

Victor’s eyes snapped to meet Yura’s against his better judgement. He might have expected a pleading, begging expression to match up with the youth’s words, but instead those eyes were full of persistence. Of stubborn determination. He would not be swayed.

“I can’t tolerate you as Alpha,” Victor whispered. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t seem to handle it. And… you don’t need me anymore now that you’ve reverted.”

Yura looked at him, searching for something. Then he nodded. “Come back to bed, Vitya. Everything will be all right.”

Victor’s mouth twisted. “Didn’t I just tell you—”

He froze.

The wails coming from the other room suddenly silenced.

“What did you just…”

“Now you can’t say I’ve never done anything for you,” Yura said, dropping his hand. He left Victor in the doorway and walked back to the bedroom. His head was held high, thumbs in the pockets of black training pants that slung low on his hips. He sauntered down the hallway as if it were a catwalk. Though the confidence remained, the smoke was gone from his scent.

Victor hurriedly shut and locked the door and followed after him. He entered the bedroom and found his mates sitting on the bed, Yuuri looking down at his body in horror.

“This can’t have happened. _Why_ did this happen? How?!”

“We think you reacted to Vitya and me going at each other…” Yura answered, stroking his hands down Yuuri’s shoulders and arms. “Or maybe just because we were both Alpha? Maybe both? I don’t know.”

“Holy shit, some of the things I said… and some of the things I _did_! Gods, when you both… and I _loved it_.” Yuuri hid his face in his hands and shied away from Yura.

Victor felt a dash of confusion mix in with the embarrassingly ugly thrill of relief that began squeezing his heart. There were no Alphas here to compete with him, but Yuuri was no longer in heat so suddenly that mattered a lot less.

Yura pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped something out. Then he tossed it onto the nightstand, gathered Yuuri into his arms, and turned back to reach out an expectant hand to Victor, palm up.

“Well, what are you waiting for, Alpha? Turn off the light and get the hell over here.”

* * *

Izzy winced as she blearily blinked open her eyes. They were crusty with mascara; she must have forgotten to wash off her make-up before bed last night. And the sun was too bright. She must have also forgotten to let the blinds down. Damn, now she’d probably never get back to sleep. It was too warm. She’d also forgotten to turn on the fan? What the hell? Had she gotten drunk last night or something?

The heat enveloping her shifted, and she froze as an arm resettled around her waist and drew her backward until her ass settled against someone else’s… ahem… interest.

The memories snapped back. Yuuri being tormented by an alpha. Holding back Nikiforov at the ice rink. Yuri switching to Alpha. The altercation. The other alpha… J.J. approaching Izzy and asking her to spend time with him. Sara screaming, pleading, begging. Everyone else confused. Leaving with J.J. and…

_What have I done?_

“Mmm… good morning, beautiful.”

Izzy jumped, and the man behind her chuckled.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” J.J.’s voice was gruff and scratchy with sleep. He nuzzled the side of her neck, and she felt a bolt of pain.

“You marked me.” The memory was there. Asking him to bite her. Begging for it. It was hazy and convoluted, but she did know he hadn’t taken a return mark.

_What the fuck have I done?_

“Yeah, you were rather insistent. I was like: “What a kinky omega to want a bite the first time she meets someone! So I went with it; it’ll only last a couple weeks. You were fun.”

Izzy shrugged off J.J.’s arm and sat up. “I’m not Omega, I’m Beta.” She scowled. How could she sleep with an idiot who couldn’t even make that distinction? How could she have sex with someone who was so cruel to Katsuki?! What was wrong with her? This went against everything she believed in!

“News to me, sweetheart,” J.J. replied through a wide, uncovered yawn. Stupid asshole really thought she was Omega. He really did. She could smell the honest amusement lazy in his scent. Could feel it thrumming through the bond. Izzy’s eyes widened, and her pupils dilated. The bond?! His scent?!!

She spun, leaping on top of J.J. and balancing on her hands and knees, her face right above his. “Alpha, what do I smell like?”

“What you don’t know your own scent? You’re a silly omega. A silly, delicious, strawberry shortcake omega.” He smiled and reached up to slide a hand into her hair to tug her down for a kiss.

Izzy neither responded nor resisted. She focused on the smells. J.J. was all amber and musk, heavy under his first scent of an oddly refreshing cucumber. The heavier scents had sunk into the plush bedding and even permeated to linger in Izzy’s hair. Geez, had he felt like he needed to scent her so it would last 20 years? But beneath that her own mild strawberry scent had blossomed with the delicate odor of spun sugar. Just like strawberry shortcake.

J.J. was deepening the kiss while she hadn’t been paying attention. She ripped herself away from him and scrambled backward on the bed in crab-like elegance.

He frowned at her but let her go. And watched her promptly tumble off the bed onto the plush hotel carpet. J.J. leaned over the side of the bed to look at her with a bewildered expression.

Izzy, as she was of the unfortunate habit during times of stress or excitement, began to babble. “Oh my God, am I like Yuri? No… no it’s not as drastic as a change. I need to talk to Seung Gil. This is… this is incredible!”

J.J. scowled. “Yeah, you were going on last night about how Plisetsky flips between secondary genders. What’s up with that?”

Izzy stilled herself. “What all did I say about it?”

“Well, you were so wild; you said a whole bunch of stuff. It was almost like you were presenting or something with how much you were screaming “Alpha!” Shit, don’t be embarrassed, it was really hot.” J.J. lifted the covers and stepped out of bed, revealing long, taut limbs decorated in fine black hair and a chest and stomach sculpted to resemble Michelangelo’s David. He was wearing a pair of silk, black boxers that left little to the imagination. The soft fabric brushed against Izzy’s knee as he knelt down next to her and slid the flat of his palms down her shoulders to her wrists.

“So tell me more about Plisetsky.”

Izzy felt her cheeks heat up as she scrambled to her feet. The bond pulsed at her to obey. It was a direct command from her Alpha… At least according to the bite decorating her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. _Resist. You don’t have to tell him anything._

“I can’t do that. I shouldn’t have said anything at all. Please just forget everything we talked about… I need to get going.” Her eyes searched the room for the outfit she’d worn the day prior.

“If you’re looking for your clothes, they’re in tatters. You legit started ripping them off, and when you got frustrated, you had me finish the job.” He popped up off his knees and sat down on the edge of the bed. “What’s your rush, anyway?”

Izzy finally noticed the scraps of cloth littering the room. Well… well, fuck. Her phone was sitting next to her ruined pants. She tapped it on. 19 missed calls. 47 unread texts. She scanned the callers first. Sara. Sara. Sara. Sara. Yakov Feltsman. Sara. Unknown number. Unknown number. Yuri Plisetsky . Victor Nikiforov. Sara. Yuri. Yuri… The rest were Yuri.  Shit.

She flicked open the text messages.

 16:27.     SARA: IZZY WHERE ARE U?

 16:30.     SARA: R U OK?!?!

 16:32.     SARA: PLZ ANSWER ME!! PICK UP UR PHONE!

It went on in that vein for some time.

Then the next set started.

17:22.     YURI PLISETSKY: All hell has broken loose. I don’t care what you’re doing, we need your help. Now.

17:22.     YURI PLISETSKY: P.S. I’m Alpha now, if you didn’t notice.

17:22.     YURI PLISETSKY: P.P.S. Yuuri is in heat, and we don’t know why.

18:29.     YURI PLISETSKY: We’re home but everything is still a shit show.

19:34.     YURI PLISETSKY: Question: Is it too early for us to place the third bond?

20:00.     YURI PLISETSKY: And Vitya hates me now. I have no one to blame so I’m blaming you for not answering       
                 your damn phone because you’re probably fucking my ex-fling like only a crazy person would do

20: 15.     YURI PLISETSKY: No longer urgent we managed terribly. You suck so hard.

20:15.     YURI PLISETSKY: Go fuck yourself, I’m never giving you any more of my blood. I hope you fell into a ditch and died.

Expecting more prayers for her demise to follow, Izzy didn’t read the rest. Panicking, she called him. It rang to voicemail.

Yuri’s messages were interspersed with many more from Sara. Several from Yakov. Even a few from Seung Gil?

She had fucked up majorly. This was so not good.

“Where are we?” Izzy asked J.J. as she fished for Sara’s number in her phone.

He told her the name of the hotel, and she texted it to Sara with instructions to bring clothes with copious apologies and affirmations that she was okay.

J.J. grabbed the hotel phone and poked the zero key. After a few moments he started ordering breakfast. “Yeah, I’ll have the steak and eggs with fruit. Nah, no potatoes.” He glanced over at Izzy. “You want anything, babe?”

Izzy was in no state to eat; her stomach threatened mutiny at the mere idea. No, what Izzy desperately wanted was to no longer be naked in front of someone she hardly knew and yet somehow with whom she had already had sex. She shook her head and rummaged through J.J.’s suitcase, pulling out a clean black tee shirt. She tugged it over her head and found it went down to her mid-thigh. It would do for now.

J.J. crossed his arms behind his head and reclined back onto the bed, eyeing Izzy with appreciation. “I think I could get used to you wearing my clothes.”

“Please don’t.” Izzy made every attempt to ignore the ripple of his abs and the pulsing of his biceps as he stretched out. She failed and wheeled around, tearing her eyes from him. Gaaawwwwdddd, he was so hot! She wanted to get back on the bed. Curl up on top of him. Let Alpha praise her and kiss her and…

“I’m going to… take a shower.”

J.J. waved a dismissive hand at her. Izzy scurried to the bathroom clutching her phone, flicked on the lights, and locked the door. After turning on the shower, she closed the lid of the toilet seat and sat down to regroup.

Her behavior was normal for an omega with an unreciprocated first bond mark. That much was understandable. Her actions before said mark was placed were a little more difficult to rationalize. She decided to ignore that line of thought for the moment and moved on to the next one.

So J.J. knew about Yuri’s situation. That wasn’t good. But he seemed to be pretty vague on the details, and everyone knew the two were rivals. Anything he said would probably just be attributed to bad-mouthing a competitor. She sighed and pulled off J.J.’s shirt. The tag scratched at the front of her throat, and she realized she must have put the garment on backwards earlier in her to frenzy to get any form of fabric onto her body. Turning it around, Izzy read the bright orange letters that glared back at her.

It said: “Cool Story Babe, Now Make Me a Sandwich.” Izzy buried her face in the shirt and screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! An update! I've started residency which means I work most weekends... But honestly as the story winds to its inevitable closure, I'm probably dragging a bit. I'll make every effort to avoid that. Love you guys, thanks for sticking with me!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! Comments, criticism, love, squees, etc always appreciated and enjoyed!


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